UC-NRLF 


B    3    575    533 


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H.  SCOriELD. 


1 


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/// 


ry/  /■     f   // 


//,// 


THE 


HISTORY   OF   AMELIA. 


HENRY    FIELDING,     ESQ. 


ILLUSTRATION  SBY  GEORGE  CRUIKSHANK. 


Felices  ter  et  amplius, 

Quos  irrupta  tenet  copula  ! — Hor. 

TvvaiKoi  ovSev  XP*^I^^  ^'^^P  ^'?''^£'''fltt 
'EadXrjs  ayLtLvov,  ovbl  piyiov  KaKjjS- 


NEW-YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  82  CLIFF-STREET. 

18  37. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

1.  Blear-eyed  Moll.— Frontispiece. 

2.  Amelia's  unexpected  visit 141 

3.  Masquerade  scene 400 

4.  The  Doctor  seizing  Lawyer  Murphy 509 


^/. 


9f3 


i^r] 


RALPH    ALLEN,    ESQ. 


Sir, 

The  following  book  is  sincerely  designed  to  promote  the  cause 
of  virtue,  and  to  expose  some  of  the  most  glaring  evils,  as  well 
public  as  private,  which  at  present  infest  the  country  ;  though 
there  is  scarce,  as  I  remember,  a  single  stroke  of  satire  aimed  at 
any  one  person  throughout  the  whole. 

The  best  man  is  the  properest  patron  of  such  an  attempt ;  this, 
I  believe,  will  be  readily  granted:  nor  will  the  public  voice,  I 
think,  be  more  divided,  to  whom^they  shall  give  that  appellation. 
Should  a  letter,  indeed,  be  thus  inscribed,  Deiur  Optimo,  there 
are  few  persons  who  would  think  it  wanted  any  other  direction. 

I  will  not  trouble  you  with  a  preface  concerning  the  work,  nor 
endeavour  to  obviate  any  criticisms  which  can  be  made  on  it. 
The  good-natured  reader,  if  his  heart  should  be  here  affected,  will 
be  inclined  to  pardon  many  faults  for  the  pleasure  he  will  receive 
from  a  tender  sensation  ;  and  for  readers  of  a  different  stamp,  the 
more  faults  they  can  discover,  the  more,  I  am  convinced,  they 
will  be  pleased. 

Nor  will  I  assume  the  fulsome  style  of  common  dedicators  :  I 
have  not  their  usual  design  in  this  epistle,  nor  will  I  borrow  their 
language.  Long,  very  long  may  it  be,  before  a  most  dreadful  cir- 
cumstance shall  make  it  possible  for  any  pen  to  draw  a  just  and 
true  character  of  yourself,  without  incurring  a  suspicion  of  flattery 
in  the  bosoms  of  the  malignant.  This  task,  therefore,  I  shall  de- 
fer till  that  day,  (if  I  should  be  so  unfortunate  as  ever  to  see  it,) 
when  every  good  man  shall  pay  a  tear  for  the  satisfaction  of  his 
A  2 


34 


IV  DEDICATION. 

curiosity  ;  a  day  which,  at  present,  I  behave,  there  is  but  one 
good  man  in  the  world  who  can  think  of  it  with  unconcern. 

Accept,  then,  sir,  this  small  token  of  that  love,  that  gratitude, 
and  that  respect,  with  which  I  shall  always  esteem  it  my  greatest 
honour  to  be,  sir,  your  most  obliged  and  most  obedient  humble 
servant, 

Henry  Fielding. 
Bow-street,  Dec.  12,  1751. 


THE 


HISTORY   OF    AMELIA. 


BOOK  I. 

Chapter  I. — Contains  the  exordium,  &c. 

The  various  accidents  which  befel  a  very  worthy 
couple  after  their  uniting  in  the  state  of  matrimony,  will 
be  the  subject  of  the  following  history.  The  distresses 
which  they  waded  through  were  some  of  them  so  exqui- 
site, and  the  incidents  which  produced  these  so  extraor- 
dinary, that  they  seemed  to  require,  not  only  the  ut- 
most mahce,  but  the  utmost  invention  which  superstition 
has  ever  attributed  to  Fortune  :  though,  whether  any 
such  being  interfered  in  the  case,  or,  indeed,  whether 
there  be  any  such  being  in  the  universe,  is  a  matter 
which  I  by  no  means  presume  to  determine  in  the  affirm- 
ative. To  speak  a  bold  truth,  I  am,  after  much  ma- 
ture deliberation,  inclined  to  suspect  that  the  public  voice 
has  in  all  ages  done  much  injustice  to  Fortune,  and  has 
convicted  her  of  many  facts  in  which  she  had  not  the 
least  concern.  I  question  much  whether  we  may  not, 
by  natural  means,  account  for  the  success  of  knaves,  the 
calamities  of  fools,  with  all  the  miseries  in  which  men 
of  sense  sometimes  involve  themselves,  by  quitting  the 
directions  of  prudence,  and  foUowing  the  bhnd  guidance 
of  a  predominant  passion ;  in  short,  for  all  the  ordinary 
phenomena  which  are  imputed  to  Fortune,  whom,  per- 
haps, men  accuse  with  no  less  absurdity  in  life  than  a 
bad  player  complains  of  ill  luck  at  the  game  of  chess. 
1  But  if  men  are  sometimes  guilty  of  laying  improper 
blame  on  this  imaginary  being,  they  are  altogether  as 
apt  to  make  her  amends,  by  ascribing  to  her  honours 
1* 


6  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA, 

which  she  as  little  deserves.  To  retrieve  the  ill  conse- 
quences of  a  foolish  conduct,  and  by  struggling  manfully 
with  distress,  to  subdue  it,  is  one  of  the  noblest  efforts 
of  wisdom  and  virtue.  Whoever,  therefore,  calls  such 
a  man  fortunate,  is  guilty  of  no  less  impropriety  in 
speech,  than  he  would  be  who  should  call  the  statuary 
or  the  poet  fortunate,  who  carved  a  Venus,  or  who  wrote 
an  Iliad. 

Life  may  as  properly  be  called  an  art  as  any  other ; 
and  the  great  incidents  in  it  are  no  more  to  be  considered 
as  mere  accidents,  than  the  several  members  of  a  fine 
statue,  or  a  noble  poem.  The  critics  in  all  these  are  not 
content  with  seeing  anything  to  be  great,  without  know- 
ing why  and  how  it  c'kme  to  be  so.  By  examining  care- 
fully the  several  gradations  which  conduce  to  bring 
every  model  to  perfection,  we  learn  truly  to  know  that 
science  in  which  the  model  is  formed:  as  histories  of 
this  kind,  therefore,  may  properly  be  called  models  of 
human  hfe,  so,  by  observing  minutely  the  several  inci- 
dents which  tend  to  the  catastrophe  or  completion  of  the 
whole,  and  the  minute  causes  whence  those  incidents 
are  produced,  we  shall  best  be  instructed  in  this  most 
useful  of  all  arts,  which  I  call  the  Art  of  Life. 


Chapter  II.— The  history  sets  out,— Observations  on  the  excel- 
lency of  the  English  constitution,  and  curious  examinations  before 
a  justice  of  peace. 

On  the  first  of  April,  in  the  year ,  the  watchmen 

of  a  certain  parish,  (I  know  not  particularly  which,) 
within  the  liberty  of  Westminster,  brought  several  per- 
sons, whom  they  had  apprehended  the  preceding  night, 
before  Jonathan  Thrasher,  Esq.,  one  of  the  justices  of 
peace  of  that  liberty. 

But  here,  reader,  before  we  proceed  to  the  trials  of 
these  offenders,  we  shall,  after  our  usual  manner,  pre- 
mise some  things  which  it  may  be  necessary  for  thee  to 
know. 

It  has  been  observed,  I  think,  by  many,  as  well  as  the 
celebrated  writer  of  Three  Letters,  that  no  human  insti- 
tution is  capable  of  consummate  perfection  :  an  observa- 
tion which,  perhaps,  that  writer  at  least  gathered  from 
discovering  some  defects  in  the  polity  even  of  this  well- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  ' 

regulated  nation.     And,  indeed,  if  there  should  be  any 
such  defect  in  a  constitution  which,  my  Lord  Coke  long 
aero  told  us,  "  the  wisdom  of  all  the  wise  men  ni  the 
w'orld,  if  they  had  all  met  together  at  one  time,  could 
not  have  equalled,"  which  some  of  our  wisest  men,  who 
were  met  together  long  before,  said  was  too  good  to  be 
altered  in  any  particular ;  and  which,  nevertheless,  has 
been  mending  ever  since,  by  a  very  great  number  of  the 
said  wise  men-if,  I   say,  this  constitution   should  be 
imperfect,  we  maybe  allowed,  I  think,  to  doubt  whether 
any  such  faultless  model  can  be  found  among  the  insti- 
tutions of  men.  ,  „  .  -  ^ 
It  will  probably  be  objected,  that  the  small  imperfec- 
tions, which  I  am  about  to  produce,  do  not  lie  in  the  laws 
themselves,  but  in  the  ill  execution  of  them  :  but,  w  th 
submission,  this  appears  to  me  to  be  no  less  an  absurdity, 
than  to  say  of  any  machine  that  it  is  excellently  made 
though  incapable  of  performing  its   functions.     Good 
laws   should  execute   themselves  in   a  well-regulated 
state;  at  least,  if  the  same  legis^lature  which  provides 
the  laws  does  not  provide  for  the  execution  of  them 
they  act  as  Graham  would  do,  if  he  should  form  all  the 
parts  of  a  clock  in  the  most  exquisite  maimer,  yet  put 
them  so  together  that  the  clock  could  not  go.     In  this 
case,  surely,  we  might  say  that  there  was  a  small  defect 
in  the  constitution  of  the  clock. 

To  say  the  truth,  Graham  would  soon  see  the  fault 
and  would  easily  remedy  it:  the  fault,  indeed  could  be 
Z  other  than  th'at  the  parts  were  i"^F«Pf  ^f  d>^^P^^,f '^ 
Perhaps,  reader,  I  have  another  illustration,  which 
will  set  my  intention  in  a  still  clearer  ^ght  before  you 
Figure  to  yourself,  then,  a  family,  the  master  of  wh  ch 
should  dispose  of  the  several  economical  offices  m   he 
following  manner  :  viz.,  should  put  his  butler  on  the 
coac™ox,  his  steward  behind  his  coach  his  coachman 
in  the  butlery,  and  his  footman  ^\^hefe wardship,  and 
in  the  same  ridiculous  manner  should  ""semploy  the 
talents  of  every  other  servant ;  it  is  easy  to  see  what  a 
fiffure  such  a  family  must  make  in  the  world. 
^Ts  r  diculous  as  Ls  may  seem,  I  have  often  considered 
some  of  the  lower  officers  in  our  civil  government  to  be 
disposed  m  this  very  manner.     To  begin,  I  think,  as  low 
as  Twell  can,  with  the  watchmen  in  our  metropolis 
who,  being  to  guard  our  streets  by  night  from  thieves 
rnd  robbers,  al  office  which  at  least  requires  strength 


6  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

of  body,  are  chosen  out  of  those  poor,  old,  decreprt 
people,  who  are,  from  their  want  of  bodily  strength, 
rendered  incapable  of  getting  a  livelihood  by  work. 
These  men,  armed  only  with  a  pole,  which  some  of  them 
are  scarce  able  to  lift,  are  to  secure  the  persons  and 
houses  of  his  majesty's  subjects  from  the  attacks  of 
gangs  of  young,  bold,  stout,  desperate,  and  well-armed 
villains : — 

Quae  non  viribus  istis 
Munera  conveniunt. 

If  the  poor  old  fellows  should  run  away  from  such  ene- 
mies, no  one,  I  think,  can  wonder,  unless  it  be  that  they 
were  able  to  make  their  escape. 

The  higher  we  proceed  among  our  public  officers  and 
magistrates,  the  less  defects  of  this  kind  will,  perhaps,  be 
observable.  Mr.  Thrasher,  however,  the  justice  before 
whom  the  prisoners  above  mentioned  were  now  brought, 
had  some  few  imperfections  in  his  magistratical  capacity. 
I  own,  I  have  been  sometimes  inclined  to  think,  that  this 
office  of  a  justice  of  peace  requires  some  knowledge  of 
the  law,  for  this  simple  reason  :  because,  in  every  case 
which  comes  before  him,  he  is  to  judge  and  act  accord- 
ing to  law.  Again,  as  these  laws  are  contained  in  a 
great  variety  of  books,  (the  statutes  which  relate  to  the 
office  of  a  justice  of  peace  making  of  themselves  at  least 
two  large  volumes  in  folio,  and  that  part  of  his  jurisdic- 
tion which  is  founded  on  the  common  law  being  dis- 
persed in  above  a  hundred  volumes,)  I  cannot  conceive 
how  this  knowledge  should  be  acquired  without  reading; 
and  yet,  certain  it  is,  Mr.  Thrasher  never  read  one  syl- 
lable of  the  matter. 

This,  perhaps,  was  a  defect ;  but  this  was  not  all :  for 
where  mere  ignorance  is  to  decide  a  point  between  two 
litigants,  it  will  always  be  an  even  chance  whether  it  de- 
cides right  or  wrong;  but  sorry  am  I  to  say,  right  was 
often  in  a  much  worse  situation  than  this,  and  wrong 
has  often  had  five  hundred  to  one  on  his  side  before  that 
magistrate  ;  who,  if  he  was  ignorant  of  the  laws  of  Eng- 
land, was  yet  well  versed  in  the  laws  of  nature.  He 
perfectly  well  understood  that  fundamental  principle,  so 
strongly  laid  down  in  the  institutes  of  the  learned  Roche- 
foucault,  by  which  the  duty  of  self-love  is  so  strongly 
enforced,  and  every  man  is  taught  to  consider  himself 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  9 

as  the  centre  of  gravity,  and  to  attract  all  things  thither. 
To  speak  the  truth  plainly,  the  justice  was  never  in- 
diiferent  in  a  cause,  but  when  he  could  get  nothing  on 
either  side. 

Such  was  the  justice  to  whose  tremendous  bar  Mr. 
Gotobed  the  constable,  on  the  day  above  mentioned, 
brought  several  delinquents,  who,  as  we  have  said,  had 
been  apprehended  by  the  watch  for  divers  outrages. 

The  first  who  came  upon  this  trial  was  as  bloody  a 
spectre  as  ever  the  imagination  of  a  murderer  or  a  tragic 
poet  conceived.  This  poor  wretch  was  charged  with  a 
battery  by  a  much  stouter  man  than  himself;  indeed, 
the  accused  person  bore  about  him  some  evidence  that 
he  had  been  in  an  affray,  his  clothes  being  very  bloody ; 
but  certain  open  sluices  in  his  own  head  sufl!iciently 
showed  whence  all  the  scarlet  stream  had  issued,  whereas 
the  accuser  had  not  the  least  mark  or  appearance  of  any 
wound.  The  justice  asked  the  defendant  what  he  meant 
by  breaking  the  king's  peace]  to  which  he  answered, 
"  Upon  my  shoul  I  do  love  the  king  very  well,  and  I  have 
not  been  after  breaking  anything  of  his  that  I  do  know ; 
but  upon  my  shoul  this  man  has  brake  my  head,  and  my 
head  did  brake  his  stick  ;  that  is  all,  gra."  He  then 
offered  to  produce  several  witnesses  against  this  improb- 
able accusation ;  but  the  justice  presently  interrupted 
him,  saying,  "  Sirrah,  your  tongue  betrays  your  guilt ; 
you  are  an  Irishman,  and  that  is  always  sufficient  evi- 
dence with  me." 

The  second  criminal  was  a  poor  woman,  who  was 
taken  ^1)  by  the  watch  as  a  streetwalker.  It  was 
alleged  against  her,  that  she  was  found  walking  the 
streets  after  twelve  o'clock,  and  the  watchman  declared 
he  believed  her  to  be  a  common  strumpet.  She  pleaded 
in  her  defence  (as  was  really  the  truth)  that  she  was  a 
servant,  and  was  sent  by  her  mistress,  who  was  a  little 
shopkeeper,  and  upon  the  point  of  delivery,  to  fetch  a 
midwife  ;  which  she  offered  to  prove  by  several  of  the 
neighbours,  if  she  was  allowed  to  send  for  them.  The 
justice  then  asked  her  why  she  had  not  done  it  before ; 
to  which  she  answered,  she  had  no  money,  and  could 
get  no  messenger.  The  justice  then  called  her  several 
scurrilous  names  ;  and,  declaring  she  was  guilty,  within 
the  statute  of  streetwalking,  ordered  her  to  Bridewell 
for  a  month. 

A  genteel  young  man  and  woman  were  then  set  for- 
A3 


10  THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA. 

ward,  and  a  very  grave-looking  person  swore  he  caught 
them  in  a  situation  which  we  cannot  as  particularly 
describe  here  as  he  did  before  the  magistrate,  who,  hav- 
ing received  a  wink  from  his  clerk,  declared,  with  much 
warmth,  that  the  fact  was  incredible  and  impossible. 
He  presently  discharged  the  accused  parties,  and  was 
going,  without  any  evidence,  to  commit  the  accuser  for 
perjury;  but  this  the  clerk  dissuaded  him  from,  saying, 
he  doubted  whether  a  justice  of  peace  had  any  such 
power.  The  justice  at  first  differed  m  opinion  ;  and  said, 
he  had  seen  a  man  stand  in  the  pillory  about  perjury; 
nay,  he  had  known  a  man  in  jail  for  it  too ;  and  how 
came  he  there,  if  he  was  not  committed  thither  ]  "  Why 
that  is  true,  sir,"  answered  the  clerk  ;  "  and  yet  I  have 
been  told  by  a  very  great  lawyer,  that  a  man  cannot  be 
committed  for  perjury  before  he  is  endicted  ;  and  the 
reason  is,  I  believe,  because  it  is  not  against  the  peace 
before  the  endictment  makes  it  so."  "  Why  that  may 
be,"  cries  the  justice  ;  "  and  indeed  perjury  is  but  scan- 
dalous words,  and  I  know  a  man  cannot  have  a  warrant 
for  those,  unless  you  put  for  rioting*  them  into  the 
warrant." 

The  witness  was  now  about  to  be  discharged,  when 
the  lady  whom  he  had  accused  declared  slie  would 
swear  the  peace  against  him  ;  for  that  he  had  called  her 
a  whore  several  times.  "  Oho  !  you  will  swear  the 
peace,  madam,  will  you"?"  cries  the  justice  ;  "  give  her 
the  peace,  presently ;  and  pray,  Mr.  Constable^  secure 
the  prisoner,  now  we  have  him,  while  a  v>arrant  is 
made  to  take  him  up."  All  which  was  immediately  per- 
formed, and  the  poor  witness,  for  want  of  sureties,  was 
sent  to  prison. 

A  young  fellow,  whose  name  was  Booth,  was  now 
charged  W4th  beating  a  watchman  in  the  execution  of 
his  office,  and  breaking  his  lantern.     This  was  deposed 

*  Opus  est  interprete.  By  the  laws  of  England,  abusive  words  are 
not  punishable  by  the  magistrate  ;  some  commissioners  of  the  peace, 
therefore,  when  one  scold  has  applied  to  them  for  a  warrant  against  an- 
other, from  too  eager  a  desire  of  doing  justice,  have  construed  a  little 
harmless  scolding  into  a  riot;  which  is,  in  law,  an  outrageous  breach 
of  the  peace  committed  by  several  persons,  by  three  at  least,  nor  can 
a  less  number  be  convicted  of  it.  Under  this  word  rioting,  or  riotthig, 
(for  I  have  seen  it  spelled  both  ways,)  thousands  of  old  women  have 
been  arrested  and  put  to  expense,  sometimes  in  prison,  for  a  little  in- 
temperate use  of  their  tongues.  This  practice  began  to  decrease  in 
the  year  1749. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

lantern,  which  had  been  ong  pr  ^^      ^     ^^^  g^i. 

it.  tesumony  were  P-^  ' "f^^Ve  cnnunal  to  be  but 
dence.      Ihe  justice,  VJ'^'-         s  jj  j,  m  without 

shabbily  dressed,  was  going  t<"^«j"'  ^th,  however,  at 
asking  any  further  ^^^'""^^.^.Vd,  the  worthy  magis- 
the  earnest  request  of  'hejiccuseQ,  m  y 

trate  submitted  to  hear  ^is  de  ence_     Ihe  yo     g 
then  alleged,  as  was  m  reaUty  the  ease,  Uiat_a^^  ._^  ^^^ 

walking  •'X'hertit  a  thfrd?u'pon  which  he  had  stopped 
street  cruelly  beating  a  ':";™'  /  ^ho  was  so  une- 

and  endeavoured  ^  a^^'lV^^.tif:!'^:  up  during  the  af- 
qually  attacked ;  '^at  the  watcii  ca  n       y  ^^^^ 

fray,  and  took  them  aU  f^"!  °  ndhouse  where  the  two 
immediately  .f  "'«Vho  anpear"  d  to  be  "Ten  of  fortune, 
original  assailants,  who  appeareao  j^.^harged 

found  means  ^  make  "P  *e  ma  ter,  a  ^^^  ^  ^^ 

r^yrht^poek^t  ~ 

^Sv^  S&Xf  h^  ^r ^rJ  his  liberty  at  the 

price  of  half  a  crown.  nffender  can  never  be 

P  Though  the  bare  word  0    an  offendeic^^^^^    ^^^^^^^ 

taken  against  the  °a''^«'''^/'"ddeivered  with  such 

"'  '*■"  :!f  L"urhTaV:iS  en^  'hat  hat  the  magistrate 
an  air  of  tiuth  ana  s"jy*;'Y'  •.  ^  ^ad  lie  been  very 
been  endued  with  ^''^^ ^f^^^}l^'Z^^^^  necessary 
moderately  gitted  ^^^,^1^,^^^^^^^^^^  em- 

to  all  who  are  to  '^^''''''^^^^'l'!:^^^^   the  watchmen; 

P!?^^'rwou^have'Sv  n  thTd^^  the  time  he 

at  least,  he  wouia  nave  ^  v  ,  ^  present 

desired  to  send  for  the  o;l^^y^P^^^'^,"'d7d  In  short,  the 
l^LtrSTo'ot^f^^X 

^^^^ir^erai-eTnf^yr^lne.^ 

the  poor  man  himself,  '""hose  defence  me 

tioned  e«lP"\«as  engaged      His  tnal^^^^^  ^^_^^^^_^  ^^^^ 

Z^'i^  ^^UeCwas^rusU.  MS  breath  was  not, 


12  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

for  against  this  last  wretch  he  poured  forth  a  great 
many  vollies  of  menace  and  abuse. 

The  dehnquents  were  then  all  despatched  to  prison, 
under  a  guard  of  watchmen;  and  the  justice  and  the 
constable  adjourned  to  a  neighbouring  alehouse  to  take 
their  morning  repast. 


Chapter  III. — Containing  the  inside  of  a  prison. 

Mr.  Booth  (for  we  shall  not  trouble  you  with  the 
rest)  was  no  sooner  arrived  in  the  prison,  than  a  number 
of  persons  gathered  round  him,  all  demanding  garnish; 
to  which  Mr.  Booth  not  making  a  ready  answer,  as 
indeed  he  did  not  understand  the  word,  some  were 
going  to  lay  hold  of  him,  when  a  person  of  apparent 
dignity  came  up,  and  insisted  that  no  one  should  affront 
the  gentleman.  This  person  then,  who  was  no  less 
than  the  master  or  keeper  of  the  prison,  turning  towards 
Mr.  Booth,  acquainted  him,  that  it  was  the  custom  of 
the  place  for  every  prisoner,  upon  his  first  arrival  there, 
to  give  something  to  the  former  prisoners  to  make  them 
drink.  This,  he  said,  was  what  they  called  garnish ; 
and  concluded  with  advising  his  new  customer  to  draw 
his  purse  upon  the  present  occasion.  Mr.  Booth  an- 
swered, that  he  would  very  readily  comply  with  this 
laudable  custom,  was  it  in  his  power  ;  but  that  in  reality 
he  had  not  a  shilling  in  his  pocket,  and,  what  was  worse, 
he  had  not  a  shilling  in  the  world.  "  Oho !  if  that  be 
the  case,"  cries  the  keeper,  "  it  is  another  matter,  and  I 
have  nothing  to  say."  Upon  which,  he  immediately 
departed,  and  left  poor  Booth  to  the  mercy  of  his  com- 
panions, who,  without  loss  of  time,  applied  themselves 
to  uncasing,  as  they  termed  it,  and  with  such  dexterity, 
that  his  coat  was  not  only  stripped  off,  but  out  of  sight 
in  a  minute. 

Mr.  Booth  was  too  weak  to  resist,  and  too  wise  to 
complain  of  this  usage.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  he  was 
at  liberty,  and  declared  free  of  the  place,  he  summoned 
his  philosophy,  of  which  he  had  no  inconsiderable  share, 
to  his  assistance,  and  resolved  to  make  himself  as  easy 
as  possible  under  his  present  circumstances. 

Could  his  own  thoughts  indeed  have  suffered  him  for 
a  moment  to  forget  where  he  was,  the  dispositions  of 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  13 

the  other  prisoners  might  have  induced  him  to  believe 
that  he  had  been  in  a  happier  place ;  for  much  the  greater 
part  of  his  fellow-sufferers,  instead  of  wailing  and  repi- 
ning at  their  conditions,  were  laughing,  singing,  and  di- 
verting themselves  with  various  kinds  of  sports  and 
gambols. 

The  first  person  who  accosted  him  was  called  Blear- 
eyed  Moll,  a  woman  of  no  very  comely  appearance. 
Her  eye,  (for  she  had  but  one,)  whence  she  derived  her 
nickname,  was  such  as  that  nickname  bespoke :  be- 
sides which,  it  had  two  remarkable  qualities ;  for  first, 
as  if  nature  had  been  careful  to  provide  for  her  own  de- 
fect, it  constantly  looked  towards  her  blind  side ;  and, 
secondly,  the  ball  consisted  almost  entirely  of  white,  or 
rather  of  yellow,  with  a  little  gray  spot  in  the  corner, 
so  small  that  it  was  scarce  discernible.  Nose  she  had 
none;  for  Venus,  envious,  perhaps,  at  her  former  charms, 
had  carried  off  the  gristly  part ;  and  some  earthly  dam- 
sel, perhaps,  froui  the  same  envy,  had  levelled  the  bone 
with  the  rest  of  her  face  :  indeed,  it  was  far  beneath  the 
bones  of  her  cheeks,  which  rose  proportionally  higher 
than  is  usual.  About  half  a  dozen  ebony  teeth  forti- 
fied that  large  and  long  canal  which  nature  had  cut  from 
ear  to  ear,  at  the  bottom  of  which  was  a  chin  prepos- 
terously short,  nature  having  turned  up  the  bottom,  in- 
stead of  suffering  it  to  grow  to  its  due  length. 

Her  body  was  well  adapted  to  her  face ;  she  meas- 
ured full  as  much  round  the  middle  as  from  head  to 
foot ;  for,  besides  the  extreme  breadth  of  her  back,  her 
vast  breasts  had  long  since  forsaken  their  native  home, 
and  had  settled  themselves  a  little  below  the  girdle. 

I  wish  certain  actresses  on  the  stage,  when  they  are 
to  perform  characters  of  no  amiable  cast,  would  study 
to  dress  themselves  with  the  propriety  with  which 
Blear-eyed  Moll  was  now  arrayed.  For  the  sake  of  our 
squeamish  reader,  we  shall  not  descend  to  particulars  : 
let  it  suffice  to  say,  nothing  more  ragged  or  more  dirty 
was  ever  emptied  out  of  the  roundhouse  at  St.  Giles's. 

We  have  taken  the  more  pains  to  describe  this  per- 
son, for  two  remarkable  reasons :  the  one  is,  that  this 
unlovely  creature  was  taken  in  the  fact  with  a  very 
pretty  young  fellow ;  the  other,  which  is  more  produc- 
tive of  moral  lesson,  is,  that  however  wretched  her  for- 
tune may  appear  to  the  reader,  she  was  one  of  the  mer- 
riest persons  in  the  whole  prison. 
2 


14  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

er  to  be  repeated  here,  and  was  going  ?f  "^^  ^""^g™ 
^Zes%°i^rBo^otM=tr™t  P;X,  J^ 

3{?r:"Br.-'^xvv^,rut'i;fea"s 

pect    he  was  long  V     ^    '         r  j^^j^gj  ,„  a 

Z^  '^Uh  black  coat  wl?"h  would  have  showed  more 
^'r,  than  it  did?  had  not  the  linen  which  appeared 
I'htugh  '?  been  entirely  of  the  same  colour  wah  the 

''This  gentleman,  whose  name  was  Rf  i"^°"'.^<'*f ^^ 

^LTirri:^o.i^TffpeaT^^^^^ 

::f  -Lfc^uSrlK^traXf  ed?^^^^^^^^^ 
least  Dart  which  distinffuishes  a  gentleman:'  at  which 
words^he^ast  a  significant  look  on  his  own  coat  as 
The  desired  they  should  be  applied  to  himself.  He 
thpn  nroceeded  in  the  following  manner:— 

"lC-ceive:sir,  you  are  but  just  arrived  in  this  dis- 
mal S  which  is,  indeed,  rendered  more  detestable 
";lh'e  wretches  who  inhabit  it,  than  ^Y  any  mher  ci^^^ 
cumstance ;  but,  even  these  a  wise  man  will  soon  bring 
hmself  to  bear  with  indifference:  for  what  is,  is  ;  and 
wITat  must  be  must  be.  The  knowledge  of  this  which, 
SmDlHs  it  apperrs,  is  in  truth  the  height  of  all  philos- 
onZ  renders^a  wise  man  superior  to  every  evil  which 
can  befall  him.  I  hope,  sir,  no  very  dreadful  accident  is 
^he  cause  oryour  com  ng  hither;  but  whatever  it  was 
you  may  be  assured  it  could  not  be  otherwise  for  all 
things  happen  by  an  inevitable  fatality ;  and  a  man  can 


*  A  cant  term  for  robbery  on  the  highway. 
+  Another  cant  term  for  pillering. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  15 

no  more  resist  the  impulse  of  fate,  than  a  wheelbarrow 
can  the  force  of  its  driver." 

Besides  the  obligation  which  Mr.  Robinson  had  con- 
ferred on  Mr.  Booth  in  delivering  him  from  the  insults  of 
Blear-eyed  Moll,  there  was  something  in  the  manner  of 
Robinson  which,  notwithstanding  the  meanness  of  his 
dress,  seemed  to  distinguish  him  from  the  crowd  of 
wretches  who  swarmed  in  those  regions  ;  and,  above 
ail,  the  sentiments  which  he  had  just  declared  very 
nearly  coincided  with  those  of  Mr.  Booth.  This  gen- 
tleman was  what  they  call  a  freethinker ;  that  is  to  say, 
a  deist,  or,  perhaps,  an  atheist :  for  though  he  did  not 
absolutely  deny  the  existence  of  a  Qod,  yet  he  entirely 
denied  his  providence;  a  doctrine  which,  if  it  is  not 
downright  atheism,  has  a  direct  tendency  towards  it ;  and, 
as  Dr.  Clarke  observes,  may  soon  be  driven  into  it. 
And  as  to  Mr.  Booth,  though  he  was  in  his  heart  an 
extreme  wellwisher  to  religion,  (for  he  was  an  honest 
man,)  yet  his  notions  of  it  were  very  slight  and  uncer- 
tain. To  say  the  truth,  he  was  in  the  wavering  condi- 
tion so  finely  described  by  Claudian  :— 

"  Labefacta  cadebat 
K-eligio,  causaeque  viam  non  sponte  sequebar 
Alterius,  vacuo  qui  currere  semina  motu 
Aflfirmat,  magnumque  novas  per  inane  figuras 
Fortuna,  non  arte,  regi ;  quse  numina  sensu 
Ainbiguo,  vel  nulla  putat,  vel  nescia  nostri." 

This  way  of  thinking,  or  rather  of  doubting,  he  had 
contracted  from  the  same  reasons  which  Claudian  as- 
signs, and  which  had  induced  Brutus,  in  his  latter  days, 
to  doubt  the  existence  of  that  virtue  which  he  had  all 
his  life  cultivated.  In  short,  poor  Booth  imagined  that 
a  larger  share  of  misfortune  had  fallen  to  his  lot  than 
he  had  merited ;  and  this  led  him,  who,  though  a  good 
classical  scholar,  was  not  deeply  learned  in  religious 
matters,  into  a  disadvantageous  opinion  of  Providence. 
A  dangerous  way  of  reasoning,  in  which  our  conclusions 
are  not  only  too  hasty,  from  an  imperfect  view  of  things, 
but  we  are  likewise  liable  to  much  error  from  partiality 
to  ourselves,  viewing  our  virtues  and  vices  as  through  a 
perspective,  in  which  we  turn  the  glass  always  to  our 
own  advantage,  so  as  to  diminish  the  one,  and  as  greatly 
to  magnify  the  other. 

From  the  above  reasons,  it  can  be  no  wonder  that  Mr. 


16  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

Booth  did  not  decline  the  acquaintance  of  this  person 
in  a  place  which  could  not  promise  to  afford  him  any- 
better.  He  answered  him,  therefore,  with  great  courtesy, 
as,  indeed,  he  was  of  a  very  good  and  gentle  disposition  ; 
and,  after  expressing  a  civil  surprise  at  meeting  him 
there,  declared  himself  to  be  of  the  same  opinion  with 
regard  to  the  necessity  of  human  actions  ;  adding,  how- 
ever, that  he  did  not  believe  men  were  under  any  blind 
impulse  or  direction  of  fate ;  but  that  every  man  acted 
merely  from  the  force  of  that  passion  which  was  upper- 
most in  his  mind,  and  could  do  no  otherwise. 

A  discourse  now  ensued  between  the  two  gentlemen, 
on  the  necessity  arising  from  the  impulse  of  fate,  and 
the  necessity  arising  from  the  impulse  of  passion,  which, 
as  it  will  make  a  pretty  pamphlet  of  itself,  we  shall  re- 
serve for  some  future  opportunity.  When  this  was 
ended,  they  set  forward  to  survey  the  jail  and  the  pris- 
oners, with  the  several  cases  of  whom  Mr.  Robinson, 
-who  had  been  some  time  under  confinement,  undertook 
to  make  Mr.  Booth  acquainted. 


Chapter  IV. — Disclosing  further  secrets  of  the  prison  house. 

The  first  persons  whom  they  passed  by  were  three 
men  in  fetters,  who  were  enjoying  themselves  very 
merrily  over  a  bottle  of  wine  and  a  pipe  of  tobacco. 
These,  Mr.  Robinson  informed  his  friend,  were  three 
street  robbers,  and  were  all  certain  of  being  hanged  the 
ensuing  sessions :  "  so  inconsiderable  an  object,"  said 
he,  "  is  misery  to  light  minds,  when  it  is  at  any  dis- 
tance." 

A  little  further  they  beheld  a  man  prostrate  on  the 
ground,  whose  heavy  groans  and  frantic  actions  plainly 
indicated  the  highest  disorder  of  mind.  This  person 
was,  it  seems,  committed  for  a  small  felony ;  and  his 
wife,  who  then  lay-in,  upon  hearing  the  news,  had  thrown 
herself  from  a  window  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  by  which 
means  he  had,  in  all  probability,  lost  both  her  and  his 
child. 

A  very  pretty  girl  then  advanced  towards  them,  whose 
beauty  Mr.  Booth  could  not  help  admiring  the  moment 
he  saw  her;  declaring,  at  the  same  time,  he  thought  she 
had  great  innocence  in  her  countenance.      Robinson 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  17 

said  she  was  committed  thither  as  an  idle  and  disorderly 
person,  and  a  common  streetwalker.  As  she  passed  by 
Mr.  Booth,  she  discharged  a  volley  of  words,  every  one 
of  which  was  too  indecent  to  be  repeated. 

They  now  beheld  a  little  creature  sitting  by  herself  in 
a  corner,  and  crying  bitterly.  This  girl,  Mr.  Robinson 
said,  was  committed  because  her  father-in-law,  who 
was  in  the  grenadier  guards,  had  sworn  that  he  was 
afraid  of  his  life,  or  of  some  bodily  harm  which  she 
would  do  him,  and  she  could  get  no  sureties  for  keeping 
the  peace ;  for  which  reason  Justice  Thrasher  had  com- 
mitted her  to  prison. 

A  great  noise  now  arose,  occasioned  by  the  prisoners 
all  flocking  to  see  a  fellow  whipped  for  petty  larceny,  to 
which  he  was  condemned  by  the  court  of  quarter  ses- 
sions, but  this  soon  ended  in  the  disappointment  of  the 
spectators  ;  for  the  fellow,  after  being  stripped,  having 
advanced  another  sixpence,  was  discharged  untouched.- 

This  was  immediately  followed  by  another  bustle. 
Blear-eyed  Moll  and  several  of  her  companions  having 
got  posses.sion  of  a  man  who  was  committed  for  certain 
odious  practices,  were  giving  him  various  kinds  of  dis- 
cipline, and  would  probably  have  put  an  end  to  him,  had 
he  not  been  rescued  out  of  their  hands  by  authority. 

When  this  bustle  was  a  little  allayed,  Mr.  Booth  took 
notice  of  a  young  woman  in  rags  sitting  on  the  ground, 
and  supporting  the  head  of  an  old  man  in  her  lap,  who 
appeared  to  be  giving  up  the  ghost.  These,  Mr.  Robin- 
son informed  him,  were  father  and  daughter;  that  the 
latter  was  committed  for  stealing  a  loaf,  in  order  to  sup- 
port the  former ;  and  the  former  for  receiving  it,  know- 
ing it  to  be  stolen. 

A  well-dressed  man  then  walked  surlily  by  them,  whom 
Mr.  Robinson  reported  to  have  been  conimitted  on  an 
endictment  found  against  him  for  a  most  horrid  perjury  ; 
"  but,"  says  he,  "we  expect  him  to  be  bailed  to-day," 
"  Good  Heaven !"  cries  Booth,  "  can  such  villains  find 
bail,  and  is  no  person  charitable  enough  to  bail  that  poor 
father  and  daughter?"  "Oh,  sir,"  answered  Robinson, 
*'  the  offence  of  the  daughter  being  felony,  is  held  not 
to  be  bailable  in  law,  whereas  perjury  is  a  misdemeanour 
only ;  and  therefore  persons  who  are  even  endicted  for 
it  are  nevertheless  capable  of  being  bailed.  Nay, 
of  all  perjuries,  that  of  which  this  man  is  endicted 
is  the  worst;  for  it  was  with  the  intention  of  taking 
2* 


18  THE   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

away  the  life  of  an  innocent  person  by  form  of  law. 
As  to  perjuries  in  civil  matters,  they  are  not  so  very 
criminal."  "They  are  not,"  said  Booth;  "and  yet 
even  these  are  a  most  flagitious  oflFence,  and  worthy 
the  highest  punishment."  "  Surely  they  outjht  to  be  dis- 
tinguished," answered  Robinson,  "  from  the  others ;  for 
Avhat  is  taking  away  a  little  property  from  a  man,  com- 
pared to  taking  away  his  life  and  his  reputation,  and 
ruining  his  family  into  the  bargain  ?  I  hope  there  can 
be  no  comparison  in  the  crimes,  and  I  think  there  ought 
to  be  none  in  the  punishment.  However,  at  present 
the  punishment  of  all  perjury  is  only  pillory  and  trans- 
portation for  seven  years ;  and  as  it  is  a  traversable  and 
bailable  offence,  methods  are  often  found  to  escape  any 
punishment  at  all."* 

Booth  expressed  great  astonishment  at  this,  when  his 
attention  was  suddenly  diverted  by  the  most  miserable 
object  he  had  yet  seen.  This  was  a  wretch  almost 
naked,  who  bore  on  his  countenance,  joined  to  an  ap- 
pearance of  honesty,  the  marks  of  poverty,  hunger,  and 
disease  :  he  had,  moreover,  a  wooden  leg,  and  two  or 
three  scars  on  his  forehead.  "  The  case  of  this  poor 
man  is,  indeed,  unhappy  enough,"  said  Robinson :  "  he 
has  served  his  country,  lost  his  limb,  and  received  several 
wounds  at  the  siege  of  Gibraltar.  When  he  was  dis- 
charged from  the  hospital  abroad,  he  came  over  to  get 
into  that  of  Chelsea,  but  could  not  immediately,  as  none 
of  his  officers  were  then  in  England.  In  the  mean  time 
he  was  one  day  apprehended  and  committed  hither  on 
suspicion  of  stealing  three  herrings  from  a  fishmonger. 
He  was  tried  several  months  ago  for  this  offence,  and 
acquitted ;  indeed,  his  innocence  manifestly  appeared  at 
the  trial ;  but  he  was  brought  back  again  for  his  fees, 
and  here  he  has  lain  ever  since." 

Booth  expressed  great  horror  at  this  account,  and  de- 
clared if  he  had  only  so  much  money  in  his  pocket,  he 
would  pay  his  fees  for  him ;  but  added,  that  he  was  not 
possessed  of  a  single  farthing  in  the  world. 

Robinson  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said  with  a 
smile,  "  I  am  going  to  make  you,  sir,  a  very  odd  propo- 
sal after  your  last  declaration ;  but  what  say  you  to  a 

*  By  removing  the  endictment  by  certiorari  into  the  king's  bench, 
the  trial  is  so  long  postponed,  and  the  costs  are  so  highly  uicreased, 
that  prosecutors  are  often  tired  out,  and  some  incapacitated  from 
pursuing.     Verbum  sapieruL 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  19 

game  at  cards  1  it  will  serve  to  pass  a  tedious  hour,  and 
may  divert  your  thoughts  from  more  unpleasant  specu- 
lations." 

I  do  not  imagine  Booth  would  have  agreed  to  this ; 
for  though  some  love  of  gaming  had  been  formerly 
among  his  faults,  yet  he  was  not  so  egregiously  addicted 
to  that  vice  as  to  be  tempted  by  the  shabby  plight  of 
Robinson,  who  had,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  no 
charms  for  a  gamester.  If  he  had,  however,  any  such 
inclinations,  he  had  no  opportunity  to  follow  them  ;  for 
before  he  could  make  any  answer  to  Robinson's  propo- 
sal, a  strapping  wench  came  up  to  Booth,  and,  taking 
hold  of  his  arm,  asked  him  to  walk  aside  with  her,  say- 
ing, "  What,  are  you  such  a  fresh  cull  that  you  do  not 
know  this  fellow  1  why,  he  is  a  gambler,  and  committed 
for  cheating  at  play  :  there  is  not  such  a  pickpocket  in 
the  whole  quod,"* 

A  scene  of  altercation  now  ensued  between  Robinson 
and  the  lady,  which  ended  in  a  bout  at  fisticuffs,  in  which 
the  lady  was  greatly  superior  to  the  philosopher. 

While  the  two  combatants  were  engaged,  a  grave- 
looking  man,  rather  better  dressed  than  the  majority  of 
the  company,  came  up  to  Mr.  Booth,  and  taking  him 
aside,  said,  "  I  am  sorry,  sir,  to  see  a  gentleman,  as  you 
appear  to  be,  in  such  intimacy  with  that  rascal,  who  makes 
no  scruple  of  disowning  all  revealed  religion;  as  for 
crimes,  they  are  human  errors,  and  signify  but  little ;  nay, 
perhaps,  the  worse  a  man  is  by  nature,  the  more  room 
there  is  for  grace.  The  spirit  is  active,  and  loves  best 
to  inhabit  those  minds  where  it  may  meet  with  the  most 
work.  Whatever  your  crime  be,  therefore,  I  would  not 
have  you  despair,  but  rather  rejoice  at  it ;  for  perhaps 
it  may  be  the  means  of  your  being  called."  He  ran  on 
for  a  considerable  time  with  this  cant,  without  waiting 
for  an  answer,  and  ended  in  declaring  himself  a  Metho- 
dist. 

Just  as  the  Methodist  had  finished  his  discourse,  a 
beautiful  young  woman  was  ushered  into  the  jail ;  she 
was  genteel  and  well  dressed,  and  did  not  in  the  least 
resemble  those  females  whom  Mr.  Booth  had  hitherto 
seen.  The  constable  had  no  sooner  delivered  her  at 
the  gate,  than  she  asked,  with  a  commanding  voice,  for 
the  keeper;   and,  when   he  arrived,  she  said  to  him, 

*  A  cant  word  for  a  prison. 


20  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  Well,  sir,  whither  am  I  to  be  conducted  1  I  hope  I  am 
not  to  take  up  my  lodging  with  these  creatures."  The 
keeper  answered  with  a  kind  of  surly  respect,  "  Madam, 
we  have  rooms  for  those  who  can  afford  to  pay  for 
them."  At  these  words  she  pulled  a  handsome  purse 
from  her  pocket,  in  which  many  guineas  chinked,  say- 
ing, with  an  air  of  indignation,  that  she  was  not  come 
thither  on  account  of  poverty.  The  keeper  no  sooner 
viewed  the  purse,  than  his  features  became  all  softened 
in  an  instant ;  and,  with  all  the  courtesy  of  which  he 
was  master,  he  desired  the  lady  to  walk  with  him,  as- 
suring her  that  she  should  have  the  best  apartment  in 
his  house. 

Mr.  Booth  was  now  left  alone  ;  for  the  Methodist  had 
forsaken  him,  having,  as  the  phrase  of  the  sect  is, 
searched  him  to  the  bottom  ;  in  fact,  he  had  thoroughly 
examined  every  one  of  Mr.  Booth's  pockets  ;  from  which 
he  had  conveyed  away  a  penknife  and  an  iron  snuffbox, 
these  being  all  the  moveables  which  were  to  be  found. 

Booth  was  standing  near  the  gate  of  the  prison  when 
the  young  lady  above  mentioned  was  introduced  into  the 
yard ;  he  viewed  her  features  very  attentively,  and  was 
persuaded  that  he  knew  her ;  she  was,  indeed,  so  re- 
markably handsome,  that  it  was  hardly  possible  for  any 
who  had  ever  seen  her  to  forget  her.  He  inquired  of  one 
of  the  under  keepers,  if  the  name  of  the  prisoner  lately 
arrived  was  not  Matthews;  to  which  he  was  answered, 
that  her  name  was  not  Matthews,  but  Vincent,  and  that 
she  was  committed  for  murder. 

The  latter  part  of  this  information  made  Mr.  Booth 
suspect  his  memory  more  than  the  former;  for  it  was 
very  possible  that  she  might  have  changed  her  name ; 
but  he  hardly  thought  she  could  so  far  have  changed 
her  nature  as  to  be  guilty  of  a  crime  so  very  incongru- 
ous with  her  former  gentle  manners  ;  for  Miss  Mat- 
thews had  both  the  birth  and  education  of  a  gentlewo- 
man. He  concluded,  therefore,  that  he  was  certainly 
mistaken,  and  rested  satisfied,  without  any  further  in- 
quiry. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  21 


Chapter  V.— Containing  certain  adventure  swhich  befell  Mr.  Booth 
in  the  prison. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  Mr.  Booth  spent  in  melan- 
choly contemplation  on  his  present  condition.  He  was 
destitute  of  the  common  necessaries  of  life,  and  conse- 
quently unable  to  subsist  where  he  was ;  nor  was  there 
a  single  person  in  town  to  whom  he  could,  with  any 
reasonable  hope,  apply  for  delivery.  Grief  for  some 
time  banished  the  thoughts  of  food  from  his  mind;  but 
in  the  morning  nature  began  to  grow  uneasy  for  the 
want  of  her  usual  nourishment,  for  he  had  not  eaten  a 
morsel  during  the  last  forty  hours.  A  penny  loaf,  which 
is,  it  seems,  the  ordinary  allowance  to  the  prisoners  in 
Bridewell,  was  now  delivered  him  ;  and  while  he  was 
eating  this,  a  man  brought  him  a  little  packet,  sealed  up, 
informing  him  that  it  came  by  a  messenger,  who  said  it 
required  no  answer. 

Mr.  Booth  now  opened  his  packet,  and,  after  unfold- 
ing several  pieces  of  blank  paper  successively,  at  last 
discovered  a  guinea,  wrapped  with  great  care  in  the  in- 
nermost paper.  He  was  vastly  surprised  at  this  sight, 
as  he  had  few,  if  any  friends,  from  whom  he  could 
expect  such  a  favour,  shght  as  it  was;  and  not  one  of 
his  friends,  as  he  was  apprized,  knew  of  his  confine- 
ment. As  there  was  no  direction  to  the  packet,  nor  a 
word  of  writing  contained  in  it,  he  began  to  suspect  that 
it  was  delivered  to  the  wrong  person ;  and,  being  one 
of  the  most  untainted  honesty,  he  found  out  the  man 
who  gave  it  to  him,  and  again  examined  him  concerning 
the  person  who  brought  it,  and  the  message  delivered 
with  it.  The  man  assured  Booth  that  he  had  made  no 
mistake  ;  saying,  "  If  your  name  is  Booth,  sir,  I  am 
positive  you  are  the  gentleman  to  whom  the  parcel  I 
gave  you  belongs." 

The  most  scrupulous  honesty  would,  perhaps,  in  such 
a  situation,  have  been  well  enough  satisfied  in  finding 
no  owner  for  the  guinea ;  especially  when  proclamation 
had  been  made  in  the  prison,  that  Mr.  Booth  had  re- 
ceived a  packet  without  any  direction,  to  which,  if  any 
person  had  any  claim,  and  would  discover  the  contents, 
he  was  ready  to  deliver  it  to  such  claimant.    No  such 


22  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

claimant  being  found  (I  mean  none  who  knew  the  con- 
tents ;  for  many  swore  they  expected  just  such  a  packet, 
and  believed  it  to  be  their  property,)  Mr.  Booth  very 
calmly  resolved  to  apply  the  money  to  his  own  use. 

The  first  thing,  after  redemption  of  the  coat,  which 
Mr.  Booth,  hungry  as  he  was,  thought  of,  was  to  supply 
himself  with  snuft',  which  he  had  long,  to  his  great  sor- 
row, been  without.  On  this  occasion,  he  presently 
missed  that  iron  box  w^hich  the  Methodist  had  so  dex- 
terously conveyed  out  of  his  pocket,  as  we  mentioned 
in  the  last  chapter. 

He  no  sooner  missed  this  box,  than  he  immediately 
suspected  that  the  gambler  was  the  person  who  had 
stolen  it;  nay,  so  well  was  he  assured  of  this  man's 
guilt,  that  it  may,  perhaps,  be  improper  to  say  he  barely 
suspected  it.  Though  Mr.  Booth  was,  as  we  have 
hinted,  a  man  of  a  very  sweet  disposition,  yet  was  he 
rather  overwarm.  Having,  therefore,  no  doubt  con- 
cerning the  person  of  the  thief,  he  eagerly  sought  him 
out,  and  very  bluntly  charged  him  with  the  fact. 

The  gambler,  whom  I  think  we  should  now  call  the 
philosopher,  received  this  charge  without  the  least  vis- 
ible emotion  either  of  mind  or  muscle.  After  a  short 
pause  of  a  few  moments,  he  answered,  with  great  so- 
lemnity, as  follows  :  "  Young  man,  1  am  entirely  uncon- 
cerned at  your  groundless  suspicion.  He  that  censures 
a  stranger,  as  I  am  to  you,  without  any  cause,  makes  a 
worse  compliment  to  himself  than  to  the  stranger.  You 
know  yourself,  friend  ;  you  know  not  me.  It  is  true, 
indeed,  you  heard  me  accused  of  being  a  cheat  and  a 
gamester;  but  who  is  my  accuser?  Look  at  my  ap- 
parel, friend;  do  thieves  and  gamesters  wear  such 
clothes  as  these  ?  play  is  my  folly,  not  my  vice ;  it  is 
my  impulse,  and  I  have  been  a  martyr  to  it.  Would  a 
gamester  have  asked  another  to  play  when  he  could 
have  lost  eighteen  pence  and  won  nothing !  However, 
if  you  are  not  satisfied,  you  may  search  my  pockets  -. 
the  outside  of  all  but  one  will  serve  your  turn,  and  in 
that  one  there  is  the  eighteen  pence  I  told  you  of."  He 
then  turned  up  his  clothes,  and  his  pockets  entirely  re- 
sembled the  pitchers  of  the  Belides. 

Booth  was  a  little  staggered  at  this  defence.  He  said 
the  real  value  of  the  iron  box  was  too  inconsiderable  to 
mention ;  but  that  he  had  a  capricious  value  for  it,  for 
the  sake  of  the  person  who  gave  it  him :  "  for  though  it 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  23 

is  not,"  said  he,  "  worth  sixpence,  I  would  willingly 
give  a  crown  to  any  one  who  would  bring  it  me  again." 

Robinson  answered,  "  If  that  be  the  case,  you  have 
nothing  more  to  do  but  to  signify  your  intention  in  the 
prison ;  and  I  am  well  convinced  you  will  not  be  long 
without  regaining  the  possession  of  your  snuffbox." 

This  advice  was  immediately  followed,  and  with  suc- 
cess, the  Methodist  presently  producing  the  box,  which, 
he  said,  he  had  found,  and  should  have  returned  it  be- 
fore, had  he  known  the  person  to  whom  it  belonged ; 
adding,  with  uplifted  eyes,  that  the  Spirit  would  not  suffer 
him  knowingly  to  detain  the  goods  of  another,  however 
inconsiderable  the  value  was.  "  Why  so,  friend  V  said 
Robinson :  "  have  I  not  heard  you  often  say,  the  wickeder 
any  man  was,  the  better,  provided  he  was  what  you  call 
a  believer?"  "You  mistake  me,"  cries  Cooper:  (for  -  4i*v 
that  was  the  name  of  the  Methodist :)  "  no  man  can  be  '■  ^' 
wicked  after  he  is  possessed  by  the  Spirit.  There  is  a 
wide  difference  between  the  days  of  sin  and  the  days  of 
grace.  I  have  been  a  sinner  myself."  "  I  believe  thee," 
cries  Robinson,  with  a  sneer.  "  I  care  not,"  answered 
the  other,  "  what  an  atheist  believes.  I  suppose  you 
would  insinuate  that  I  stole  the  snuffbox ;  but  I  value 
not  your  malice  :  the'Lord  knows  my  innocence."  He 
then  walked  off  with  the  reward ;  and  Booth,  returning 
to  Robinson,  very  earnestly  asked  pardon  for  his  ground- 
less suspicion  ;  which  the  other,  without  any  hesitation, 
accorded  him,  saying,  "  You  never  accused  me,  sir  ;  you 
suspected  some  gambler,  with  whose  character  1  have 
no  concern.  I  should  be  angry  with  a  friend  or  acquain- 
tance who  should  give  a  hasty  credit  to  any  allegation 
against  me  ;  but  I  have  no  reason  to  be  offended  with 
you  for  believing  what  the  woman  and  the  rascal  who  is 
just  gone,  and  who  is  committed  here  for  a  pickpocket, 
(which  you  did  not  perhaps  know,)  told  you  to  my  dis- 
advantage :  and,  if  you  thought  me  to  be  a  gambler,  you 
had  just  reason  to  suspect  any  ill  of  me  ;  for  I  myself 
am  confined  here  by  the  perjury  of  one  of  those  villains, 
who,  having  cheated  me  of  my  money  at  play,  and  hear- 
ing that  I  intended  to  apply  to  a  magistrate  against  him, 
himself  began  the  attack,  and  obtained  a  warrant  against 
me  of  Justice  Thrasher,  who,  without  hearing  one  speech 
in  my  defence,  committed  me  to  this  place." 

Booth  testified  great  compassion  at  this  account ;  and 
having  invited  Robinson  to  dinner,  they  spent  that  day 


24  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

together.  In  the  afteraoon,  Booth  indulged  his  friend 
with  a  game  of  cards,  at  first  for  halfpence,  and  after- 
ward for  shillings ;  when  Fortune  so  favoured  Robin- 
son, that  he  did  not  leave  the  other  a  single  shilling  in 
his  pocket. 

A  surprising  run  of  luck  in  a  gamester  is  often  mis- 
taken for  somewhat  else,  by  persons  who  are  not  over 
zealous  believers  in  the  divuiity  of  Fortune.  I  have 
known  a  stranger  at  Bath,  who  has  happened  fortunately 
(I  might  almost  say  unfortunately)  to  have  four  by  hon- 
ours in  his  hand  almost  every  time  he  dealt,  for  a  whole 
evening,  shunned  universally  by  the  whole  company  the 
next  day :  and  certain  it  is,  that  Mr.  Booth,  though  of  a 
temper  very  little  inclined  to  suspicion,  began  to  waver 
in  his  opinion,  whether  the  character  given  by  Mr.  Rob- 
inson of  himself,  or  that  which  the  others  gave  of  him, 
was  the  truer. 

In  the  morning,  hunger  paid  him  a  second  visit,  and 
found  him  again  in  the  same  situation  as  before.  After 
some  deliberation,  therefore,  he  resolved  to  ask  Robin- 
son to  lend  him  a  shilling  or  two  of  that  money  which 
was  lately  his  own ;  and  this  experiment,  he  thought, 
would  confirm  him  either  in  a  good  or  evil  opinion  of 
that  gentleman. 

To  this  demand  Robinson  answered,  with  great  alac- 
rity, that  he  should  very  gladly  have  complied,  had  not 
Fortune  played  one  of  her  jade  tricks  with  him  ;  "for 
since  my  winning  of  you,"  said  he,  "  I  have  been  stripped 
not  only  of  your  money,  but  my  own."  He  was  going 
to  harangue  further,  but  Booth,  with  great  indignation, 
turned  from  him. 

This  poor  gentleman  had  very  little  time  to  reflect  on 
his  own  misery,  or  the  rascality,  as  it  appeared  to  him,  of 
the  other,  when  the  same  person,  who  had  the  day  be- 
fore delivered  him  the  guinea  from  the  unknown  hand, 
again  accosted  him,  and  told  him  a  lady  in  the  house 
(so  he  expressed  himself)  desired  the  favour  of  his  com- 
pany. 

Mr.  Booth  immediately  obeyed  the  message,  and  was 
conducted  into  a  room  in  the  prison,  where  he  was  pres- 
ently convinced  that  Mrs.  Vincent  was  no  other  than 
his  old  acquaintance  Miss  Matthews. 


THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA.  25 


Chapter  VI. — Containing  the  extraordinary  behaviour  of  Miss  Mat- 
thews on  her  meeting  with  Booth  ;  and  some  endeavours  to  prove, 
by  reason  and  authority,  that  it  is  possible  for  a  woman  to  appear 
to  be  what  she  really  is  not. 

Eight  or  nine  years  had  passed  since  any  interview 
between  Mr.  Booth  and  Miss  Matthew's  ;  and  their  meet- 
ing now  in  so  extraordinary  a  place  affected  both  of  them 
with  equal  surprise. 

After  some  immaterial  ceremonies,  the  lady  acquaint- 
ed Mr.  Booth,  that  having  heard  there  was  a  person  in 
the  prison  who  knew  her  by  the  name  of  Matthews,  she 
had  great  curiosity  to  inquire  who  he  was,  whereupon 
he  had  been  shown  to  her  from  the  window  of  the 
house  ;  that  she  immediately  recollected  him,  and  being 
informed  of  his  distressful  situation,  for  which  she  ex- 
pressed great  concern,  she  had  sent  him  that  guinea 
which  he  had  received  the  day  before ;  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  excuse  herself  for  not  having  desired  to  see 
him  at  that  time,  when  she  was  under  the  greatest  dis- 
order and  hurry  of  spirits. 

Booth  made  many  handsome  acknowledgments  of  her 
favour ;  and  added,  that  he  very  httle  wondered  at  the 
disorder  of  her  spirits,  concluding,  that  he  was  heartily 
concerned  at  seeing  her  there ;  "  but  I  hope,  madam," 
said  he — 

Here  he  hesitated ;  upon  which,  bursting  into  an  agony 
of  tears,  she  cried  out,  "  Oh  captain !  captain !  many 
extraordinary  things  have  passed  since  last  I  saw  yon. 
Oh  gracious  Heaven  !  did  I  ever  expect  that  this  would 
be  the  next  place  of  our  meeting "?" 

She  then  flung  herself  into  her  chair,  where  she  gave 
a  loose  to  her  passion,  while  he,  in  the  most  affection- 
ate and  tender  manner,  endeavoured  to  sooth  and  com- 
fort her ;  but  passion  itself  did,  probably,  more  for  its 
own  relief  than  all  his  friendly  consolations.  Having 
vented  this  in  a  large  flood  of  tears,  she  became  pretty 
well  composed;  but  Booth  unhappily  mentioning  her 
father,  she  again  relapsed  into  an  agony,  and  cried  out, 
*'  Why,  why  will  you  repeat  the  name  of  that  dear  man  I 
I  have  disgraced  him,  Mr.  Booth ;  I  am  unworthy  the 
name  of  his  daughter."  Here  passion  again  stopped  her 
words,  and  discharged  itself  in  tears. 

After  this  second  vent  of  sorrow  or  shame,  or,  if  the 
3  B 


26  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

reader  pleases,  of  rage,  she  once  more  recovered  from 
her  ag-onies :  to  say  the  truth,  these  are,  I  beheve,  as 
critical  discharges  of  nature  as  any  of  those  which  are 
so  called  by  the  physicians  ;  and  do  more  eifectually  re- 
lieve the  mind  than  any  remedies  with  which  the  whole 
materia  medica  of  philosophy  can  supply  it. 

When  Mrs.  Vincent  had  recovered  her  faculties,  she 
perceived  Booth  standing  silent,  with  a  mixture  of  con- 
cern and  astonishment  in  his  countenance ;  then,  ad- 
dressing herself  to  him  with  an  air  of  most  bewitching 
softness,  of  which  she  was  a  perfect  mistress,  she  said, 
"  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  amazement,  Captain  Booth, 
nor,  indeed,  at  the  concern  which  you  so  plainly  discover 
for  me  ;  for  1  well  know  the  goodness  of  your  nature  : 
but,  oh,  Mr.  Booth !  believe  me,  when  you  know  what 
has  happened  since  our  last  meeting,  your  ''oncern  will 
be  raised,  however  your  astonishment  may  cease.  Oh, 
sir,  you  are  a  stranger  to  the  cause  of  my  sorrows." 

"  I  hope  I  am,  madam,"  answered  he,  "  for  I  cannot 
believe  what  1  have  heard  in  the  prison :  surely  mur- 
der— "  At  which  words  she  started  from  her  chair, 
repeating,  "  Murder !  Oh,  it  is  music  in  my  ears !  You 
have  heard,  then,  the  cause  of  my  commitment,  my  glory, 
my  delight,  my  reparation !  Yes,  my  old  friend,  this  is 
the  hand,  this  is  the  arm,  that  drove  the  penknife  to  his 
heart.  Unkind  fortune,  that  not  one  drop  of  his  blood 
reached  my  hand!  Indeed,  sir,  1  would  never  have 
washed  it  from  it.  But,  though  I  have  not  the  happiness 
to  see  it  on  my  hand,  I  have  the  glorious  satisfaction 
of  remembering  I  saw  it  run  in  rivers  on  the  floor  ;  1  saw 
it  forsake  his  cheeks;  I  saw  him  fall  a  martyr  to  my 
revenge.  And  is  the  killing  a  villain  to  be  called  murder  ? 
Perhaps  the  law  calls  it  so.  Let  it  call  it  what  it  will, 
or  punish  me  as  it  pleases.  Punish  me  ! — no,  no — that 
is  not  in  the  power  of  man — not  of  that  monster  man, 
Mr.  Booth.  1  am  undone,  am  revenged,  and  have  now 
no  more  business  for  life :  let  them  take  it  from  me 
when  they  will." 

Our  poor  gentleman  turned  pale  with  horror  at  this 
speech,  and  the  ejaculation  of  "  Good  Heavens  !  what 
do  I  hear  V  burst  spontaneously  from  his  lips :  nor  can 
we  wonder  at  this,  though  he  was  the  bravest  of  men ; 
for  her  voice,  her  looks,  her  gestures  were  properly 
adapted  to  the  sentiments  she  expressed.  Such,  indeed, 
was  her  image,  that  neither  could  Shakspeare  describe, 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  27 

nor  Hogarth  paint,  nor  Clive  act,  a  fury  in  higher  per- 
fection. 

"  What  do  you  hear  ?"  reiterated  she  :  "  you  hear  the 
resentment  of  the  most  injured  of  women.  You  have 
heard,  you  say,  of  the  murder ;  but  do  you  know  the 
cause,  Mr.  Booth  1  have  you,  since  your  return  to  Eng- 
land, visited  that  country  where  we  formerly  knew  one 
another?  tell  me,  do  you  know  my  wretched  story  ]  tell 
me  that,  my  friend." 

Booth  hesitated  for  an  answer :  indeed,  he  had  heard 
some  imperfect  stories,  not  much  to  her  advantage.  She 
wailed  not  till  he  had  formed  a  speech,  but  cried, "  What- 
ever you  may  have  heard,  you  cannot  be  acquainted 
with  all  the  strange  accidents  which  have  occasioned 
your  seeing  me  in  a  place  which,  at  our  last  parting, 
was  so  unlikely  that  I  should  ever  have  been  found  in  ; 
nor  can  you  know  the  cause  of  all  that  I  have  uttered,  and 
which,  I  am  convinced,  you  never  expected  to  have 
heard  from  my  mouth.  If  these  circumstances  raise 
your  curiosity,  I  will  satisfy  it." 

He  answered,  that  curiosity  was  too  mean  a  word  to 
express  his  ardent  desire  of  knowing  her  story  :  upon 
which,  with  very  little  previous  ceremony,  she  began  to 
relate  what  is  written  in  the  following  chapter. 

But,  before  we  put  an  end  to  this,  it  may  be  necessary 
to  whisper  a  word  or  two  to  the  critics,  who  have,  per- 
haps, begun  to  express  no  less  astonishment  than  Mr. 
Booth,  that  a  lady,  in  whom  we  had  remarked  a  most 
extraordinary  power  of  displaying  softness,  should,  the 
very  next  moment  after  the  words  were  out  of  her  mouth, 
express  sentiments  becoming  the  lips  of  a  Delilah,  Jez- 
ebel, Medea,  Semiramis,  Parysatis,  Tanaquil,  Livilla, 
Messalina,  Agrippina,  Brunichilde,  Elfrida,  Lady  Mac- 
beth, Joan  of  Naples,  Christina  of  Sweden,  Catharine 
Hays,  Sarah  Malcolm,  Con.  Philips,*  or  any  other 
heroine  of  the  tender  sex,  which  history,  sacred  or 
profane,  ancient  or  modern,  false  or  true,  has  recorded. 

We  desire  such  critics  to  remember,  that  it  is  the 
same  English  climate,  in  which,  on  the  lovely  tenth  of 
June,  under  a  serene  sky,  the  amorous  Jacobite,  kissing 
the  odoriferous  zephyr's  breath,  gathers  a  nosegay  of 
white  roses  to  deck  the  whiter  breast  of  Celia;  and  in 
which,  on  the  eleventh  of  June,  the  very  next  day,  the 

*  Though  last,  not  least. 
B2 


28  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

boisterous  Boreas,  roused  by  the  hollow  thunder,  rushes 
horribly  through  the  air,  and,  driving  the  wet  tempest 
before  him,  levels  the  hope  of  the  husbandman  with  the 
earth,  dreadful  remembrance  of  the  consequences  of  the 
revolution ! 

Again,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  it  is  the  selfsame 
Celia,  all  tender,  soft,  and  delicate,  who,  with  a  voice, 
the  sweetness  of  which  the  sirens  might  envy,  warbles 
the  harmonious  song  in  praise  of  the  young  adventurer; 
and  again,  the  next  day,  or  perhaps  the  next  hour,  with 
fiery  eyes,  wrinkled  brows,  and  foammg  hps,  roars  forth 
treason  and  nonsense  in  a  poHtical  argument  with  some 
fair  one  of  a  different  principle. 

Or,  if  the  critic  be  a  whig,  and  consequently  dislikes 
such  kind  of  similes,  as  being  too  favourable  to  Jacob- 
itism,  let  him  be  contented  with  the  following  story  : — 

I  happened  in  my  youth  to  sit  behind  two  ladies  in  a 
side  box  at  a  play,  wiiere,  in  the  balcony  on  the  opposite 
side,  was  placed  the  inimitable  B y  C s,  in  com- 
pany with  a  young  fellow  of  no  very  formal,  or,  indeed, 
sober  appearance.  One  of  the  ladies,  I  remember, 
said  to  the  other,  "  Did  you  ever  see  anything  look  so 
modest  and  so  innocent  as  that  girl  over  the  way! 
What  pity  it  is  such  a  creature  should  be  in  the  way  of 
ruin,  as  I  am  afraid  she  is,  by  her  being  alone  with  that 
young  fellow  !"  Now  this  lady  was  no  bad  physiogno- 
mist ;  for  it  was  impossible  to  conceive  a  greater  ap- 
pearance of  modesty,  innocence,  and  simphcity,  than 
what  nature  had  displayed  in  the  countenance  of  that 
girl ;  and  yet,  all  appearances  notwithstanding,  I  myself 
(remember,  critic,  it  was  in  my  youth)  had,  a  few  morn- 
ings before,  seen  that  very  identical  picture  of  all  those 
engaging  qualities  in  bed  with  a  rake  at  a  bagnio,  smo- 
king tobacco,  drinking  punch,  talking  obscenity,  and 
swearing  and  cursing  with  all  the  impudence  and  im- 
piety of  the  lowest  and  most  abandoned  trull  of  a 
soldier. 


Chapter  VII.— In  which  Miss  Matthews  begms  her  history. 

Miss  Matthews,  having  barred  the  door  on  the  inside 
as  securely  as  it  was  before  barred  on  the  outside,  pro- 
ceeded as  follows : — 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  29 

"  You  may  imagine  I  am  going  to  begin  my  history 
at  the  time  when  you  left  the  country  ;  but  I  cannot  help 
reminding  you  of  something  which  happened  before. 
You  will  soon  recollect  the  incident ;  but  I  believe  you 
little  know  the  consequence  either  at  that  time  or  since. 
Alas!  I  could  keep  a  secret  then:  now  1  have  no  se- 
crets ;  the  world  knows  all ;  and  it  is  not  worth  my 
while  to  conceal  anything.  Well !  you  will  not  wonder, 
I  believe.  I  protest  I  can  hardly  tell  it  you  even  now ; 
but  I  am  convinced  you  have  too  good  an  opinion  of 
yourself  to  be  surprised  at  any  conquest  you  may  have 
made.  Few  men  want  that  good  opinion;  and  perhaps 
very  few  had  ever  more  reason  for  it.  Indeed,  Will, 
you  was  a  charming  fellow  in  those  days;  nay,  you 
are  not  much  altered  for  the  worse  now,  at  least  in  the 
opinion  of  some  women  ;  for  your  complexion  and  fea- 
tures are  grown  much  more  masculine  than  they  were." 
Here  Booth  made  her  a  low  bow,  most  probably  with  a 
compliment;  and,  after  a  little  hesitation,  she  again  pro- 
ceeded :  "  Do  you  remember  a  contest  which  happened 
at  an  assembly  between  myself  and  Miss  Johnson,  about 
standing  uppermost]  You  was  then  my  partner,  and 
young  Williams  danced  with  the  other  lady.  The  par- 
ticulars are  not  now  worth  mentioning,  though  I  suppose 
you  have  long  since  forgotten  them.  Let  it  suffice  that 
you  supported  my  claim,  and  Williams  very  sneakingly 
gave  up  that  of  his  partner,  who  was,  with  much  diffi- 
culty, afterward  prevailed  on  to  dance  with  him.  You 
said  (I  am  sure  1  repeat  the  words  exactly)  that  you 
would  not  for  the  world  affront  any  lady  there  ;  but  that 
you  thought  you  might,  without  any  such  danger,  de- 
clare that  there  was  no  assembly  in  which  that  lady 
(meaning  your  humble  servant)  was  not  worthy  of  the 
uppermost  place;  nor  will  I,  said  you,  suffer  the  first 
duke  in  England,  when  she  is  at  the  uppermost  end  of 
the  room,  and  has  called  her  dance,  to  lead  his  partner 
above  her. 

'•  What  made  this  the  more  pleasing  to  me  was  that  I 
secretly  hated  Miss  Johnson.  Will  you  have  the  reason  1 
why,  then,  I  will  tell  you  honestly,  she  was  my  rival. 
That  word  perhaps  astonishes  you,  as  you  never,  1  be- 
lieve, heard  of  any  one  who  made  his  addresses  to  me ; 
and,  indeed,  my  heart  was,  till  that  night,  entirely  indif- 
ferent to  all  mankind.  I  mean,  then,  that  she  was  my 
rival  for  praise,  for  beauty,  for  dress,  for  fortune,  and, 
3* 


30  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

consequently,  for  admiration.  My  triumph  on  this  con- 
quest IS  not  to  be  expressed,  any  more  than  my  dehght 
in  the  person  to  whom  I  chiefly  owed  it :  the  former,  I 
fancy,  was  visible  to  the  whole  company,  and  I  desired 
it  should  be  so ;  but  the  latter  was  so  well  concealed, 
that  no  one,  I  am  confident,  took  any  notice  of  it :  and 
yet  you  appeared  to  me  that  night  to  be  an  angel ;  you 
looked,  you  danced,  you  spoke— everything  charmed 
me." 

"  Good  Heavens  !"  cries  Booth,  "  is  it  possible  you 
should  do  me  so  much  unmerited  honour,  and  I  should 
be  dunce  enough  not  to  perceive  the  least  symptom  V 

"  I  assure  you,"  answered  she,  "  I  did  all  I  could  to 
prevent  you ;  and  yet  I  almost  hated  you  for  not  seeing 
through  what  I  strove  to  hide.  Why,  Mr.  Booth,  was 
you  not  more  quick  sighted  ]  I  will  answer  for  you  : 
your  affections  were  more  happily  disposed  of  to  a 
much  better  woman  than  myself,  whom  you  married 
soon  afterward.  I  should  ask  you  for  her,  Mr.  Booth; 
1  should  have  asked  you  for  her  before ;  but  I  am  un- 
worthy of  asking  for  her,  or  of  calling  her  my  acquaint- 
ance." 

Booth  stopped  short,  as  she  was  running  into  another 
fit  of  passion,  and  begged  her  to  omit  all  former  matters, 
and  acquaint  him  with  that  part  of  her  history  to  which 
he  was  an  entire  stranger. 

She  then  renewed  her  discourse  as  follows :  "  You 
know,  Mr.  Booth,  I  soon  afterward  left  that  town,  upon 
the  death  of  my  grandmother,  and  returned  home  to  my 
father's  house ;  where  I  had  not  been  long  arrived  be- 
fore some  troops  of  dragoons  came  to  quarter  in  our 
neighbourhood.  Among  the  officers,  there  was  a  cornet, 
whose  detested  name  was  Hebbers,  a  name  I  could 
scarce  repeat,  had  I  not  at  the  same  time  the  pleasure 
to  reflect  that  he  is  now  no  more.  My  father,  you  i^now, 
who  is  a  hearty  well  wisher  to  the  present  government, 
used  always  to  invite  the  officers  to  his  house  ;  so  did 
he  these.  "  Nor  was  it  long  before  this  cornet,  in  so  par- 
ticular a  manner  recommended  himself  to  the  poor  old 
gentleman,  (I  cannot  think  of  him  without  tears,)  that 
our  house  became  his  principal  habitation  ;  and  he  was 
rarely  at  his  quarters,  unless  when  his  superior  officers 
obliged  him  to  be  there.  I  shall  say  nothing  of  his  per- 
son, nor  could  that  be  any  recommendation  to  a  man ; 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  31 

it  was  such,  however,  as  no  woman  could  have  made 
an  objection  to.  Nature  had  certainly  wrapped  up  her 
odious  work  in  a  most  beautiful  covering.  To  say  the 
truth,  he  was  the  handsomest  man,  except  one  only,  that 
I  ever  saw — I  assure  you  I  have  seen  a  handsomer — 
but — well — he  had,  besides,  all  the  quahfications  of  a 
gentleman ;  was  genteel,  and  extremely  polite ;  spoke 
French  well,  and  danced  to  a  miracle  ;  but  what  chiefly 
recommended  him  to  my  father  was  his  skill  in  music, 
of  which  you  know  that  dear  man  was  the  most  violent 
lover.  I  wish  he  was  not  too  susceptible  of  flattery  on 
that  head ;  for  I  have  heard  Hebbers  often  greatly  com- 
mend my  father's  performance,  and  have  observed  that 
the  good  man  was  wonderfully  pleased  with  such  com- 
mendations. To  say  the  truth,  it  is  the  only  way  I  can 
account  for  the  extraordinary  friendship  which  my 
father  conceived  for  this  person  ;  such  a  friendship,  that 
he  at  last  became  a  part  of  our  family. 

"This  very  circumstance,  which,  as  I  am  convinced, 
strongly  recommended  him  to  my  father,  had  the  very 
contrary  effect  with  me :  I  had  never  any  delight  in 
music,  and  it  was  not  without  much  difficulty  I  was 
prevailed  on  to  learn  to  play  on  the  harpsichord,  in 
which  I  had  made  a  very  slender  progress.  As  this 
man,  therefore,  was  frequently  the  occasion  of  my 
being  importuned  to  play  against  my  will,  I  began  to 
entertain  some  dislike  for  him  on  that  account ;  and  as 
to  his  person,  I  assure  you,  I  long  continued  to  look  on 
it  with  great  indifference. 

"  How  strange  will  the  art  of  this  man  appear  to  you 
presently,  who  had  suflicient  address  to  convert  that 
very  circumstance,  which  had,  at  first,  occasioned  my 
dislike,  into  the  first  seeds  of  affection  for  him. 

"  You  have  often,  I  believe,  heard  my  sister  Betty 
play  on  the  harpsichord  ;  she  was,  indeed,  reputed  the 
best  performer  in  the  whole  country. 

"  1  was  the  farthest  in  the  world  from  regarding  this 
perfection  of  hers  with  envy.  In  reality,  perhaps,  I  des- 
pised all  perfection  of  this  kind ;  at  least,  as  I  had  neither 
skill  nor  ambition  to  excel  this  way,  I  looked  upon  it  as 
a  matter  of  mere  indiflference. 

"  Hebbers  first  put  this  emulation  in  my  head :  he  took 
great  pains  to  persuade  me  that  1  had  much  greater  abil- 
ities of  the  musical  kind  than  my  sister ;  and  that  I  might, 
with  the  greatest  ease,  if  I  pleased,  excel  her ;  offering 


32  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

me,  at  the  same  time,  his  assistance,  if  I  would  resolve 
to  undertake  it. 

"  When  he  had  sufficiently  inflamed  my  ambition,  in 
which,  perhaps,  he  found  too  little  difficulty,  the  con- 
tinual praises  of  my  sister,  which  before  I  had  disre- 
garded, became  more  and  more  nauseous  in  my  ears; 
and  the  rather,  as  music  being  the  favourite  passion  of 
my  father,  I  became  apprehensive  (not  without  frequent 
hints  from  Hebbers  of  that  nature)  that  she  might  gain 
too  great  a  preference  in  his  favour. 

*'  To  my  harpsichord  then  I  applied  myself  night  and 
day  with  such  industry  and  attention,  that  I  soon  began 
to  perform  in  a  tolerable  manner.  I  do  not  absolutely 
say  I  excelled  my  sister,  for  many  were  of  a  different 
opinion ;  but,  indeed,  there  might  be  some  partiality  in 
all  that. 

"  Hebbers,  at  least,  declared  himself  on  my  side,  and 
nobody  could  doubt  his  judgment.  He  asserted  openly 
that  I  played  in  the  better  manner  of  the  two :  and  one 
day,  when  I  was  playing  to  him  alone,  he  affected  to 
burst  into  a  rapture  of  admiration,  and,  squeezing  me 
gently  by  the  hand,  said,  '  There,  madam,  I  now  declare 
you  excel  your  sister  as  much  in  music  as,'  added  he,  in 
a  whispering  sigh,  'you  do  her,  and  all  the  world,  in 
every  other  charm.' 

"  No  woman  can  bear  any  superiority  in  whatever 
thing  she  desires  to  excel.  I  now  began  to  hate  all  the 
admirers  of  my  sister,  to  be  uneasy  at  every  commen- 
dation bestowed  upon  her  skill  in  music,  and  conse- 
quently to  love  Hebbers  for  the  preference  which  he 
gave  to  mine. 

"  It  was  now  that  I  began  to  survey  the  handsome 
person  of  Hebbers  with  pleasure.  And  here,  Mr.  Booth, 
I  will  betray  to  you  the  grand  secret  of  our  sex.  Many 
women,  I  believe,  do,  with  great  innocence,  and  even 
with  great  indifference,  converse  with  men  of  the  finest 
persons;  but  this  I  am  confident  may  be  affirmed  with 
truth,  that  when  once  a  woman  comes  to  ask  this  ques- 
tion of  herself — Is  the  man,  whom  I  like  for  some  other 
reason,  handsome  ]  her  fate,  and  his  too,  very  strongly 
depend  upon  her  answering  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Hebbers  no  sooner  perceived  that  he  had  made  an 
impression  on  my  heart,  of  which,  I  am  satisfied,  I  gave 
him  too  undeniable  tokens,  than  he  affected,  on  a  sud- 
den, to  shun  me  in  the  most  apparent  manner.     He 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  33 

wore  the  most  melancholy  air  in.  my  presence,  and,  by 
his  dejected  looks  and  sighs,  firmly  persuaded  me,  that 
there  was  some  secret  sorrow  labouring  in  his  bosom ; 
nor  will  it  be  difficult  for  you  to  imagine  to  what  cause 
I  imputed  it. 

"  While  I  was  wishing  for  his  declaration  of  a  passion, 
in  which  I  thought  I  could  not  be  mistaken,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  trembling  whenever  we  met,  with  the  ap- 
prehension of  this  very  declaration,  the  widow  Carey 
came  from  London  to  make  us  a  visit,  intending  to  stay 
the  whole  summer  at  our  house. 

"  Those  who  know  Mrs.  Carey  will  scarce  think  I  do 
her  an  injury,  in  saying  she  is  far  from  being  handsome  ; 
and  yet,  she  is  as  finished  a  coquette  as  if  she  had  the 
highest  beauty  to  support  that  character ;  but  perhaps 
you  have  seen  her ;  and  if  you  have,  I  am  convinced 
you  will  readily  subscribe  to  my  opinion." 

Booth  answered,  he  had  not ;  and  then  she  proceeded, 
as  in  the  following  chapter. 


Chapter  VIIL — The  history  of  Miss  Matthews  continued. 

"  This  young  lady  had  not  been  three  days  with  us 
before  Hebbers  grew  so  particular  with  her,  that  it  was 
generally  observed ;  and  my  poor  father,  who,  I  believe, 
loved  the  cornet  as  if  he  had  been  his  son,  began  to 
jest  on  the  occasion,  as  one  who  would  not  be  dis- 
pleased at  throwing  a  good  jointure  into  the  arms  of 
his  friend. 

"  You  will  easily  guess,  sir,  the  disposition  of  my 
mind  on  this  occasion,  but  I  was  not  permitted  to  suffer 
long  under  it;  for  one  day,  when  Hebbers  was  alone 
with  me,  he  took  an  opportunity  of  expressing  his  ab- 
horrence at  the  thoughts  of  marrying  for  interest,  con- 
trary to  his  inclinations :  I  was  warm  on  the  subject, 
and,  I  believe,  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  none  but  fools 
and  villains  did  so.  He  replied,  with  a  sigh,  '  Yes,  mad- 
am, but  what  would  you  think  of  a  man  whose  heart  is 
all  the  while  bleeding  for  another  woman,  to  whom  he 
would  willingly  sacrifice  the  world;  but,  because  he  must 
sacrifice  her  interest  as  well  as  his  own,  never  durst 
even  give  her  a  hint  of  that  passion  which  was  preying 
upon  his  very  vitals?  Do  you  believe,  Miss  Fanny, 
B3 


34  THE    HISTORY   OP    AMELIA. 

there  is  such  a  wretch  on  earth?'  I  answered,  with  an 
assumed  coldness,  1  did  not  believe  there  was.  He  then 
took  me  g'ently  by  the  hand,  and,  with  a  look  so  tender 
that  I  cannot  describe  it,  vowed  he  was  himself  that 
wretch.  Then  starting,  as  if  conscious  of  an  error  com- 
mitted, he  cried,  with  a  faltering  voice,  '  What  am  I 
saying  1  Pardon  me.  Miss  Fanny,  since  I  only  beg  your 
pity;  I  never  will  ask  for  more.'  At  these  words, hear- 
ing my  father  coming  up,  I  betrayed  myself  entirely,  if 
indeed  I  had  not  done  it  before.  I  hastily  withdrew  my 
hand,  crying,  '  Hush  !  for  Heaven's  sake  ;  my  father  is 
just  coming  in  :'  my  blushes,  my  look,  and  my  accent 
telling  him,  I  suppose,  all  which  he  wished  to  know. 

"  A  few  days  now  brought  matters  to  an  eclaircisse- 
ment  between  us  ;  the  being  undeceived  in  what  had 
given  me  so  much  uneasiness,  gave  me  a  pleasure  too 
sweet  to  be  resisted.  To  triumph  over  the  wadow,  for 
whom  I  had,  in  a  very  short  time,  contracted  a  most  in- 
veterate hatred,  was  a  pride  not  to  be  described.  Heb- 
bers  appeared  to  be  the  cause  of  all  this  happiness.  I 
doubted  not  but  that  he  had  the  most  disinterested  pas- 
sion for  me,  and  thought  him  every  w^ay  worthy  of  its 
return.     I  did  return  it,  and  accepted  him  as  my  lover. 

"  He  declared  the  greatest  apprehensions  of  my  fa- 
ther's suspicion,  though  I  am  convinced  these  were  cause- 
less, had  his  designs  been  honourable.  To  blind  these, 
I  consented  that  he  should  carry  on  sham  addresses  to 
the  widow,  who  w^as  now  a  constant  jest  between  us  ; 
and  he  pretended,  from  time  to  time,  to  acquaint  me 
faithfully  with  everything  that  passed  at  his  interviews 
with  her ;  nor  was  this  faithless  woman  wanting  in  her 
part  of  the  deceit.  She  carried  herself  to  me  all  the 
while  with  a  show  of  atfection,  and  pretended  to  have 
the  utmost  friendship  for  me ;  but  such  are  the  friend- 
ships of  women." 

At  this  remark,  Booth,  though  enough  affected  at 
some  parts  of  the  story,  had  great  difficulty  to  refrain 
from  laughter  ;  but,  by  good  luck,  he  escaped,  being  per- 
ceived ;  and  the  lady  went  on  without  interruption. 

"  I  am  come  now  to  a  part  of  my  narrative,  in  which  it 
is  impossible  to  be  particular  without  being  tedious  ;  for 
as  to  the  commerce  between  lovers,  it  is,  I  believe,  much 
the  same  in  all  cases ;  and  there  is,  perhaps,  scarce  a 
single  phrase  that  has  not  been  repeated  ten  millions  of 
times. 


THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA.  35 

"  One  thing,  however,  as  I  strongly  remarked  it  then, 
so  I  will  repeat  it  to  you  now :  in  all  our  conversations, 
in  moments  when  he  fell  into  the  warmest  raptures,  and 
expressed  the  greatest  uneasiness  at  the  delay  of  his 
joys,  he  seldom  mentioned  the  word  marriage,  and  never 
once  solicited  a  day  for  that  purpose.  Indeed,  women 
cannot  be  cautioned  too  much  against  such  lovers  ;  for 
though  1  have  heard,  and  perhaps  truly,  of  some  of  our 
sex,  of  a  virtue  so  exalted,  that  it  is  proof  against  every 
temptation ;  yet  the  generality,  I  am  afraid,  are  too 
much  in  the  power  of  a  man,  to  whom  they  have  owned 
ail  affection.  What  is  called  being  upon  a  good  footing 
is,  perhaps,  being  upon  a  very  dangerous  one ;  and  a 
woman  who  has  given  her  consent  to  marry,  can  hardly 
be  said  to  be  safe  till  she  is  married. 

"  And  now,  sir,  I  hasten  to  the  period  of  my  ruin.  We 
had  a  wedding  in  our  family :  my  musical  sister  was 
married  to  a  young  fellow  as  musical  as  herself.  Such 
a  match,  you  may  be  sure,  among  other  festivities,  must 
have  a  ball.  Oh,  Mr.  Booth,  shall  modesty  forbid  me  to 
remark  to  you  what  passed  on  that  occasion  1  But  why 
do  I  mention  modesty,  who  have  no  pretensions  to  it  I 
Everything  was  said  and  practised  on  that  occasion, 
as  if  the  purpose  had  been  to  inflame  the  mind  of  every 
woman  present.  That  effect,  1  freely  own  to  you,  it  had 
with  me.  Music,  dancing,  wine,  and  the  most  luscious 
conversation,  in  which  my  poor  dear  father  innocently 
joined,  raised  ideas  in  me,  of  which  I  shall  for  ever  re- 
pent; and  I  wished  (why  should  I  deny  it?)  that  it  had 
been  my  wedding  instead  of  my  sister's. 

"  The  villain  Hebbers  danced  with  me  that  night,  and 
he  lost  no  opportunity  of  improving  the  occasion.  In 
short,  the  dreadful  evening  came  ;  my  father,  though  it 
was  a  very  unusual  thing  with  him,  grew  intoxicated 
with  liquor  ;  most  of  the  men  were  in  the  same  condi- 
tion ;  nay,  I  myself  drank  more  than  I  was  accustomed 
to,  enough  to  inflame,  though  not  to  disorder.  I  lost  my 
former  bedfellow,  my  sister,  and — you  may,  I  think,  guess 
the  rest :  the  villain  found  means  to  steal  to  my  cham- 
ber, and  I  was  undone. 

"Two  months  1  passed  in  this  detested  commerce, 
buying,  even  then,  my  guilty,  half-tasted  pleasures  at 
too  dear  a  rate,  with  continual  horror  and  apprehension. 
But  what  have  I  paid  since,  what  do  I  pay  now,  Mr. 
Booth  1    Oh,  may  my  fate  be  a  warning  to  every  woman 


36  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

to  keep  her  innocence,  to  resist  every  temptation,  since 
she  is  certain  to  repent  of  the  foolish  bargain  !  May  it 
be  a  warning  to  her  to  deal  with  mankind  with  care  and 
caution  ;  to  shun  the  least  approaches  of  dishonour,  and 
never  to  confide  too  much  in  the  honesty  of  a  man,  nor 
in  her  own  strength,  where  she  has  so  much  at  stake ; 
let  her  remember  she  walks  on  a  precipice,  and  the  bot- 
tomless pit  is  to  receive  her,  if  she  slips ;  nay,  if  she 
makes  but  one  false  step. 

*'  I  ask  your  pardon,  Mr.  Booth  :  I  might  have  spared 
these  exhortations,  since  no  woman  hears  me  ;  but  you 
will  not  wonder  at  seeing  me  affected  on  this  occasion." 

Booth  declared  he  was  much  more  surprised  at  her 
being  able  so  well  to  preserve  her  temper  in  recounting 
her  story. 

"  Oh,  sir,"  answered  she,  "  I  am  at  length  reconciled  to 
my  fate,  and  I  can  now  die  with  pleasure,  since  1  die 
revenged.  I  am  not  one  of  those  mean  wretches  who 
can  sit  down  and  lament  their  misfortunes.  If  I  ever 
shed  tears,  they  are  the  tears  of  indignation  :  but  I  will 
proceed. 

"  It  was  my  fate  now  to  solicit  marriage  ;  and  I  failed 
not  to  do  it  in  the  most  earnest  manner.  He  answered 
me  at  first  with  procrastinations,  declaring,  from  time  to 
time,  he  would  mention  it  to  my  father ;  and  still  ex- 
cusing himself  for  not  doing  it.  At  last  he  thought  on 
an  expedient  to  obtain  a  longer  reprieve.  This  was  by 
pretending,  that  he  should,  in  a  very  few  weeks,  be  pre- 
ferred to  the  command  of  a  troop ;  and  then  he  said  he 
could  with  some  confidence  propose  the  match. 

"  In  this  delay  I  was  persuaded  to  acquiesce,  and  was 
indeed  pretty  easy ;  for  I  had  not  yet  the  least  mistrust 
of  his  honour  :  but  what  words  can  paint  my  sensations, 
when  one  morning  he  came  into  my  room  with  ail  the 
marks  of  dejection  in  his  countenance,  and,  throwing  an 
open  letter  on  the  table,  said,  '  There  is  news,  madam, 
in  that  letter  which  I  am  unable  to  tell  you  ;  nor  can  it 
give  you  more  concern  than  it  has  given  me.' 

"This  letter  was  from  his  captain,  to  acquaint  him 
that  the  rout,  as  they  call  it,  was  arrived,  and  that  they 
were  to  march  within  two  days.  And  this,  I  am  since 
convinced,  w^as  what  he  expected,  instead  of  the  pre- 
ferment which  had  been  made  the  pretence  of  delaying 
our  marriage. 

"  The  shock  which  I  felt  at  reading  this  was  inex- 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  37 

pressible,  occasioned,  indeed,  principally  by  the  depar- 
ture of  a  villain  whom  I  loved.  However,  1  soon  ac- 
quired sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  remember  the  main 
point;  and  I  now  insisted  peremptorily  on  his  making 
nie  immediately  his  wife,  whatever  might  be  the  conse- 
quence. 

"  He  seemed  thunderstruck  at  this  proposal,  being,  I 
suppose,  destitute  of  any  excuse  ;  but  I  was  too  impa- 
tient to  wait  for  an  answer,  and  cried  out  with  much 
eagerness, '  Sure  you  cannot  hesitate  a  moment  upon  this 
matter.'  '  Hesitate,  madam  !'  replied  he :  '  what  you  ask 
is  impossible.  Is  this  a  time  for  me  to  mention  any- 
thing of  this  kind  to  your  father  V  My  eyes  were  now 
opened  all  at  once;  1  fell  into  a  rage  httle  short  of  mad- 
ness. '  Tell  not  me,'  I  cried,  '  of  impossibilities,  nor 
times,  nor  of  my  father  ;  my  honour,  my  reputation,  my 
all  are  at  stake ;  I  will  have  no  excuse,  no  delay  ;  make 
me  your  wife  this  instant,  or  I  will  proclaim  you  over 
the  face  of  the  whole  earth  as  the  greatest  of  villains.' 
He  answered  with  a  kind  of  sneer,  *  What  will  you  pro- 
claim, madam?  whose  honour  will  you  injure!'  My 
tongue  faltered  when  I  offered  to  reply,  and  I  fell  into 
a  violent  agony,  which  ended  in  a  lit ;  nor  do  I  remem- 
ber anything  more  that  passed,  till  1  fotmd.  myself  in  the 
arms  of  my  poor  affrighted  father. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Booth,  what  was  then  my  situation !  I 
tremble  even  now  from  the  reflection :  I  must  stop  a 
moment ;  I  can  go  no  farther."  Booth  attempted  all  in 
his  power  to  sooth  her ;  and  she  soon  recovered  her 
powers,  and  proceeded  in  her  story. 


Chapter  IX. — In  which  Miss  Matthews  concludes  her  relation. 

"  Before  1  had  recovered  my  senses,  I  had  sufficiently 
betrayed  myself  to  the  best  of  men,  who,  instead  of 
upbraiding  me,  or  exerting  any  anger,  endeavoured  to 
comfort  me  all  he  could,  with  assurances  that  all  should 
yet  be  well.  This  goodness  of  his  affected  me  with  in- 
expressible sensations  :  I  prostrated  myself  before  him, 
embraced  and  kissed  his  knees,  and  almost  dissolved  in. 
tears,  and  a  degree  of  tenderness  hardly  to  be  conceived. 
But  1  am  running  into  too  minute  descriptions. 

"  Hebbers,  seeing  me  in  a  fit,  had  left  me,  and  sent 
4 


38  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

one  of  his  servants  to  take  care  of  me ;  he  then  ran 
away  hke  a  thief  from  the  house,  without  taking  his 
leave  of  my  father,  or  once  thanking  him  for  all  his 
civilities.  He  did  not  stop  at  his  quarters,  but  made  di- 
rectly to  London,  apprehensive,  I  believe,  either  of  my 
father  or  brother's  resentment ;  for  I  am  convinced  he 
is  a  coward.  Indeed,  his  fear  of  my  brother  was  ut- 
terly groundless;  for  I  believe  he  would  rather  have 
thanked  any  man  who  had  destroyed  me;  and  I  am 
sure  1  am  not  in  the  least  behindhand  with  him  in  good 
wishes. 

"  All  his  inveteracy  to  me  had,  however,  no  effect  on 
my  father,  at  least  at  that  time ;  for  though  the  good 
man  took  sufficient  occasions  to  reprimand  me  for  my 
past  offence,  he  conld  not  be  brought  to  abandon  me. 
A  treaty  of  marriage  was  now  set  on  foot,  in  which  my 
father  himself  offered  me  to  Hebbers,  with  a  fortune 
superior  to  that  which  had  been  given  with  my  sister  ; 
nor  could  all  my  brother's  remonstrances  against  it,  as 
an  act  of  the  highest  injustice,  avail. 

"  Hebbers  entered  into  the  treaty,  though  not  with 
much  warmth :  he  had  even  the  assurance  to  make  ad- 
ditional demands  on  my  father,  which  being  complied 
with,  everything  was  concluded,  and  the  villain  once 
more  received  into  the  house.  He  soon  found  means  to 
obtain  my  forgiveness  of  his  former  behaviour :  indeed, 
he  convinced  me,  so  foolishly  blind  is  female  love,  that 
he  had  never  been  to  blame. 

"  When  everything  was  ready  for  our  nuptials,  and 
the  day  of  the  ceremony  was  to  be  appointed,  in  the 
midst  of  my  happiness,  I  received  a  letter  from  an  un- 
known hand,  acquainting  me  (guess,  Mr.  Booth,  how 
I  was  shocked  at  receiving  it)  that  Mr.  Hebbers  was 
already  married  to  a  woman  in  a  distant  part  of  the 
kingdom. 

"  I  will  not  tire  you  with  all  that  passed  at  our  next 
interview.  I  communicated  the  letter  to  Hebbers,  who, 
after  some  little  hesitation,  owned  the  fact ;  and  not 
only  owned  it,  but  had  the  address  to  improve  it  to  his 
own  advantage,  to  make  it  the  means  of  satisfying  me 
concerning  all  his  former  delays  ;  which,  to  say  the 
truth,  I  was  not  so  much  displeased  at  imputing  to  any 
degree  of  villany,  a's  I  should  have  been  to  impute  it 
to  the  want  of  a  sufficient  warmth  of  affection;  and 
though  the  disappointment  of  all  my  hopes,  at  the  very 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  39 

instant  of  their  expected  fruition,  threw  me  into  the 
most  violent  disorders,  yet,  when  I  came  a  little  to  my- 
self, he  had  no  great  difficulty  to  persuade  me,  that  in 
every  instance,  with  regard  to  me,  Hebbers  had  acted 
from  no  other  motive  than  from  tlie  most  ardent  and  un- 
governable love  ;  and  there  is,  I  believe,  no  crime  which 
a  woman  will  not  forgive,  when  she  can  derive  it  from 
that  fountain.  In  short,  1  forgave  him  all,  and  am  wil- 
ling to  persuade  myself  I  am  not  weaker  than  the  rest 
of  my  sex.  Indeed,  Mr.  Booth,  he  has  a  bewitching 
tongue,  and  is  master  of  an  address  that  no  woman 
could  resist.  I  do  assure  you,  the  charms  of  his  person 
ai'e  his  least  perfection,  at  least  in  my  eye." 

Here  Booth  smiled,  but  happily  without  her  perceiv- 
ing it. 

"  A  fresh  difficulty,"  continued  she,  "  now  arose  :  this 
was  to  excuse  the  delay  of  the  ceremony  to  my  father, 
who  every  day  very  earnestly  urged  it.  This  made  me 
so  very  uneasy,  that  I  at  last  listened  to  a  proposal, 
which,  if  any  one,  in  the  days  of  my  innocence,  or  even 
a  few  days  before,  had  assured  me  1  could  have  sub- 
mitted to  have  thought  of,  I  should  have  treated  the 
supposition  with  the  highest  contempt  and  indignation ; 
nay,  1  scarce  reflect  on  it  with  more  horror  than  aston- 
ishment. In  short,  1  agreed  to  run  away  with  him  :  to 
leave  my  father,  my  reputation,  everything  which  was 
or  ought  to  have  been  dear  to  me,  and  to  live  with  this 
villain  as  a  mistress,  since  I  could  not  be  his  wife. 

"  Was  not  this  an  obligation  of  the  highest  and  ten- 
derest  kind,  and  had  I  not  reason  to  expect  every  return 
in  the  man's  power,  on  whom  1  had  conferred  it! 

"I  will  make  short  of  the  remainder  of  ray  story: 
for  what  is  there  of  a  woman  worth  relating,  after  what 
I  have  told  you  ? 

*'  Above  a  year  I  lived  with  this  man  in  an  obscure 
court  in  London;  during  which  time  I  had  a  child  by 
him,  whom  Heaven,  I  thank  it,  has  been  pleased  to  take 
to  itself. 

"  During  many  months  he  behaved  to  me  with  all  the 
apparent  tenderness,  and  even  fondness  imaginable  ;  but, 
alas !  how  poor  was  my  enjoyment  of  this,  compared 
to  what  it  would  have  been  in  another  situation  !  When 
he  was  present,  life  was  barely  tolerable ;  but  when  he 
was  absent,  nothing  could  equal  the  misery  I  endured  :  I 
passed  my  hours  almost  entirely  alone ;  for  no  com- 


40  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

pany,  but  what  I  despised,  would  consort  with  me. 
Abroad  I  scarce  ever  went,  lest  I  should  meet  any  of  my 
former  acquaintance  ;  for  their  sight  would  have  plunged 
a  thousand  daggers  in  my  soul.  My  only  diversion  was 
going  very  seldom  to  a  pla}',  where  I  hid  myself  in  the 
gallery,  with  a  daughter  of  the  woman  of  the  house ; 
a  girl,  indeed,  of  good  sense,  and  many  good  qualities  ; 
but  how  much  beneath  me  was  it  to  be  the  companion 
of  a  creature  *so  low  !  Oh,  heavens !  when  I  have  seen 
my  equals  glittering  in  a  side  box,  how  have  the  thoughts 
of  my  lost  honour  torn  my  soul !" 

"  Pardon  me,  dear  madam,"  cries  Booth,  "  for  inter- 
rupting you  ;  but  I  am  under  the  utmost  anxiety  to  know 
what  became  of  your  poor  father,  for  whom  I  have  so 
great  a  respect,  and  who,  I  am  convinced,  must  so  bit- 
terly feel  your  loss." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Booth,"  answered  she,  "  he  was  scarce  ever 
out  of  my  thoughts.  His  dear  image  still  obtruded  it- 
self in  my  mind,  and  I  believe  would  have  broken  my 
heart,  had  I  not  taken  a  very  preposterous  way  to  ease 
myself.  1  am,  indeed,  almost  ashamed  to  tell  you  ;  but 
necessity  put  it  in  my  head.  You  will  think  the  matter 
too  trifling  to  have  been  remembered,  and  so  it  surely 
was;  nor  should  I  have  remembered  it  on  any  other 
occasion.  You  must  know  then,  sir,  that  my  brother 
was  always  my  inveterate  enemy,  and  altogether  as 
fond  of  my  sister.  He  once  prevailed  with  my  father 
to  let  him  take  my  sister  with  him  in  the  chariot,  and 
by  that  means  I  was  disappointed  of  going  to  a  ball 
which  I  had  set  my  heart  on.  The  disappointment  I 
assure  you,  was  great  at  the  time ;  but  I  had  long  since 
forgotten  it:  I  must  have  been  a  very  bad  woman  if  I 
had  not ;  for  it  was  the  only  thing  in  which  I  can  re- 
member that  my  father  ever  disobliged  me.  However, 
I  now  revived  this  in  my  mind,  which  I  artificially 
worked  up  into  so  high  an  injury,  that  I  assure  you  it  af- 
forded me  no  little  comfort.  When  any  tender  idea  in- 
truded into  my  bosom,  I  immediately  raised  this  phantom 
of  an  injury  in  my  imagination,  and  it  considerably  les- 
sened the  fury  of  that  sorrow  which  I  should  otherwise 
have  felt  for  the  loss  of  so  good  a  father,  who  died 
within  a  few  months  of  my  departure  from  him. 

"  And  now,  sir,  to  draw  to  a  conclusion.  One  night, 
as  I  was  in  the  gallery  at  Drury  Lane  playhouse,  I  saw 
below  me,  in  a  side  box,  (she  was  once  below  me  in 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  41 

every  place,)  that  widow  whom  I  mentioned  to  you  be- 
fore. I  had  scarce  cast  my  eyes  on  this  woman,  before 
I  was  so  shocked  with  the  sight,  that  it  ahnost  deprived 
me  of  my  senses  ;  for  the  villain  Hebbers  came  present- 
ly in,  and  seated  himself  behind  her. 

"  He  had  been  almost  a  month  from  me,  and  I  be- 
lieved him  to  be  at  his  quarters  in  Yorkshire.  Guess 
what  were  my  sensations,  when  I  beheld  him  sitting  by 
that  base  woman,  and  talking  to  her  with  the  utmost 
familiarity!  I  could  not  long  endure  this  sight;  and 
having  acquainted  my  companion  that  I  was  taken  sud- 
denly ill,  1  forced  her  to  go  home  with  me  at  the  end  of 
the  second  act. 

"  After  a  restless  and  sleepless  night,  when  I  rose  the 
next  morning,  I  had  the  comfort  to  receive  a  visit  from 
the  woman  of  the  house,  who,  after  a  very  short  intro- 
duction, asked  me  when  I  had  heard  from  the  captain, 
and  when  I  expected  to  see  him  ?  I  had  not  strength 
or  spirits  to  make  her  an  answer;  and  she  proceeded 
thus :  '  Indeed,  I  did  not  think  the  captain  would  have 
used  me  so.  My  husband  was  an  officer  of  the  army 
as  well  as  himself;  and  if  a  body  is  a  little  low  in  the 
world,  I  am  sure  that  is  no  reason  for  folks  to  trample 
on  a  body.  I  defy  the  world  to  say  as  I  ever  was  guilty 
of  an  ill  thing.'  '  For  Heaven's  sake  !  madam,'  says  I, 
*  what  do  you  mean  V  '  Mean  V  cries  she :  '  1  am  sure, 
if  I  had  not  thought  you  had  been  Captain  Hebbers's 
lady,  his  lawful  lady  too,  you  should  never  have  set  foot- 
ing in  my  house  :  1  would  have  Captain  Hebbers  know, 
that  though  I  am  reduced  to  let  lodgings,  1  never  have 
entertained  any  but  persons  of  character.'  In  this  man- 
ner, sir,  she  ran  on,  saying  many  shocking  things  not 
worth  repeating,  till  at  last  my  anger  got  the  better  of 
my  patience,  as  well  as  my  sorrow,  and  I  pushed  her 
out  of  the  room. 

"She  had  not  been  long  gone  before  her  daughter 
came  to  me,  and,  after  many  expressions  of  tenderness 
and  pity,  acquainted  me,  that  her  mother  had  just  found 
out,  by  means  of  the  captain's  servant,  that  the  captain 
was  married  to  another  lady ;  '  which,  if  you  did  not 
know  before,  madam,'  said  she,  '  I  am  sorry  to  be  the 
messenger  of  such  ill  news.' 

"  Think,  Mr.  Booth,  what  I  must  have  endured,  to  see 
myself  humbled  before  such  a  creature  as  this,  the 
daughter  of  a  woman  who  lets  lodgings !  However, 
4* 


42  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

having  recollected  myself  a  little,  I  thought  it  would  be 
in  vain  to  deny  anything ;  so,  knowing  this  to  be  one  of 
the  best-natured  and  most  sensible  girls  in  the  world,  I 
resolved  to  tell  her  my  whole  story,  and  for  the  future 
to  make  her  my  confidant.  I  answered  her,  therefore, 
with  a  good  deal  of  assurance,  that  she  need  not  regret 
telling  me  this  piece  of  ill  news,  for  I  had  known  it  be- 
fore I  came  to  her  house. 

"  '  Pardon  me,  madam,'  replied  the  girl,  '  you  cannot 
possibly  have  known  it  so  long;  for  he  has  not  been 
married  above  a  week :  last  night  was  the  first  time  of 
his  appearing  in  public  with  his  wife  at  the  play.  In- 
deed, I  knew  very  well  the  cause  of  your  uneasiness 
there  ;  but  would  not  mention — ' 

" '  His  wife  at  the  play  !'  answered  I,  eagerly :  '  what 
wife"?  whom  do  you  meanT 

"  '  I  mean  the  widow  Carey,  madam,'  replied  she,  *  to 
whom  the  captain  was  married  a  few  days  since.  His 
servant  was  here  last  night  to  pay  for  your  lodging,  and 
he  told  it  my  mother.' 

"  I  know  not  what  answer  I  made,  or  whether  I  made 
any :  I  presently  fell  dead  on  the  floor,  and  it  was  with 
great  difficulty  1  was  brought  back  to  life  by  the  poor 
girl ;  for  neither  the  mother  nor  the  maid  of  the  house 
would  lend  me  any  assistance,  both  seeming  to  regard 
me  rather  as  a  monster  than  a  woman. 

"  Scarce  had  I  recovered  the  use  of  my  senses,  when 
I  received  a  letter  from  the  villain,  declaring  he  had  not 
the  assurance  to  see  my  face,  and  very  kindly  advising 
me  to  endeavour  to  reconcile  myself  to  my  family ; 
concluding  with  an  offer,  in  case  1  did  not  succeed,  to 
allow  me  twenty  pounds  a  year  to  support  me  in  some 
remote  part  of  the  kingdom. 

"  I  need  not  mention  my  indignation  at  these  propo- 
sals. In  the  highest  agony  of  rage,  1  went  in  a  chair  to 
the  detested  house,  where  I  easily  got  access  to  the 
wretch  I  had  devoted  to  destruction,  whom  I  no  sooner 
found  within  my  reach,  than  I  plunged  a  drawn  pen- 
knife, which  I  had  prepared  in  my  pocket  for  that  pur- 
pose, into  his  accursed  heart.  For  this  fact  I  was  im- 
mediately seized,  and  soon  after  committed  hither :  and 
for  this  fact  I  am  ready  to  die,  and  shall  with  pleasure 
receive  the  sentence  of  the  law. 

"  Thus,  sir,"  said  she,  "  I  have  related  to  you  my  un- 
happy story :  and  if  I  have  tired  your  patience,  by  dwel- 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  43 

ling  too  long  on  those  parts  which  affected  me  the  most, 
I  ask  your  pardon." 

Booth  made  a  proper  speech  on  this  occasion ;  and 
having  expressed  much  concern  at  her  present  situation, 
concluded,  that  he  hoped  her  sentence  would  be  milder 
than  she  seemed  to  expect. 
[P»  Her  reply  to  this  was  full  of  so  much  bitterness  and 

*  indignation,  that  we  do  not  think  proper  to  record  the 

speech  at  length ;  in  which,  having  vented  her  passion, 
she  all  at  once  put  on  a  serene  countenance,  and,  with 
an  air  of  great  complacency,  said,  "  Well,  Mr.  Booth,  I 
think  I  have  now  a  right  to  satisfy  my  curiosity,  at  the 
expense  of  your  breath.  I  may  say  it  is  not  altogether 
a  vain  curiosity,  for  perhaps  I  have  had  inclination 
enough  to  interest  myself  in  whatever  concerns  you ; 
but  no  matter  for  that;  those  days,"  added  she,  with  a 
sigh,  "  are  now  over." 

Booth,  who  was  extremely  good-natured  and  well- 
bred,  told  her,  that  she  should  not  command  him  twice, 
whatever  was  in  his  power ;  and  then,  after  the  usual 
apology,  was  going  to  begin  his  history,  when  the 
keeper  arrived,  and  acquainted  the  lady  that  dinner  was 
ready,  at  the  same  time  saying,  "  I  suppose,  madam, 
as  the  gentleman  is  an  acquaintance  of  yours,  he  must 
dine  with  us  too." 

Miss  Matthews  told  the  keeper,  that  she  had  only  one 
word  to  mention  in  private  to  the  gentleman,  and  that 
then  they  would  both  attend  him.  She  then  pulled  her 
purse  from  her  pocket,  in  which  were  upwards  of  twenty 
guineas,  being  the  remainder  of  the  money  for  which 
she  had  sold  a  gold  repeating  watch,  her  father's  pres- 
ent, with  some  other  trinkets,  and  desired  Mr.  Booth  to 
take  what  he  should  have  occasion  for ;  saying,  "  You 
know,  I  believe,  dear  Will,  I  never  valued  money ;  and 
now  I  am  sure  I  shall  have  very  little  use  for  it."  Booth, 
with  much  difficulty,  accepted  of  two  guineas  ;  and  then 
they  both  together  attended  the  keeper. 


44  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 


Chapter  X. — Table-talk,  consisting  of  a  facetious  discourse  that 
passed  in  the  prison. 

There  were  assembled  at  the  table  the  governor  of 
these  (not  improperly  called  infernal)  regions  ;  the  lieu- 
tenant governor,  vulgarly  named  first  turnkey ;  Miss  Mat- 
thews, Mr.  Booth,  Mr.  Robinson  the  gambler,  several 
other  prisoners  of  both  sexes,  and  one  Murphy,  an  at- 
torney. 

The  governor  took  the  first  opportunity  to  bring  the 
affair  of  Miss  Matthews  upon  the  carpet ;  and  then 
turning  to  Murphy,  he  said,  "  It  is  very  lucky  this  gen- 
tleman happens  to  be  present :  I  do  assure  you,  madam, 
your  cause  cannot  be  in  abler  hands.  He  is,  I  believe, 
the  best  man  in  England  at  a  defence  ;  I  have  known 
him  often  succeed  against  the  most  positive  evidence." 

"  Fy,  sir,"  answered  Murphy;  "you  know  1  hate  all 
this ;  but,  if  the  lady  will  trust  me  with  her  cause,  I  will 
do  the  best  in  my  power.  Come,  madam,  do  not  be  dis- 
couraged ;  a  bit  of  manslaughter  and  cold  iron,  I  hope, 
will  be  the  worst ;  or  perhaps  we  may  come  off  better 
with  a  slice  of  chance-medley,  or  se  defendendo.'''' 

"  I  am  very  ignorant  of  the  law,  sir,"  cries  the  lady. 

"  Yes,  madam,"  answered  Murphy,  "  it  cannot  be  ex- 
pected you  should  understand  it.  There  are  very  few 
of  us  who  profess  it,  that  understand  the  whole  ;  nor  is 
it  necessary  we  should.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  rubbish 
of  little  use,  about  endictments,  and  abatements,  and 
bars,  and  ejectments,  and  trovers,  and  such  stuff,  with 
■which  people  cram  their  heads  to  little  purpose.  The 
chapter  of  evidence  is  the  main  business  ;  that  is  the 
sheet  anchor  ;  that  is  the  rudder,  which  brings  the  vessel 
safe  in  portum.  Evidence  is,  indeed,  the  whole,  the 
summa  totidis,  for  de  non  apparentibus  et  non  insistentibus 
eadem  est  ratio.'''' 

"  If  you  address  yourself  to  me,  sir,"  said  the  lady, 
**  you  are  much  too  learned,  I  assure  you,  for  my  un- 
derstanding." 

"  Tace,  madam,"  answered  Murphy,  "  is  Latin  for  a 
candle  :  I  commend  your  prudence.  I  shall  know  the 
particulars  of  your  case  when  we  are  alone." 

"  1  hope  the  lady,"  said  Robinson,  "  has  no  suspicion 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  45 

of  any  one  here  :  I  hope  we  are  all  persons  of  honour  at 
this  table." 

"  1  can  answer  for  myself  and  the  other  ladies,"  an- 
swered a  well-dressed  woman ;  "  though  I  never  saw  the 
lady  in  my  life,  she  need  not  be  shy  of  us :  d — n  me !  I 
scorn  to  rap*  against  any  lady." 

"  D— n  me,  madam  !"  cried  another  female,  "  I  honour 
what  you  have  done.  I  once  put  a  knife  into  a  cull  my- 
self: so  my  service  to  you,  madam  ;  and  I  wish  you  may 
come  off  with  se  diffidendo  with  all  my  heart." 

"  I  beg,  good  woman,"  said  Miss  Matthews,  "  you 
would  talk  on  some  other  subject,  and  give  yourself  no 
concern  about  my  affairs." 

"  You  see,  ladies,"  cried  Murphy,  "  the  gentlewoman 
does  not  care  to  talk  on  this  matter  before  company ; 
so,  pray,  do  not  press  her." 

"  Nay,  I  value  the  lady's  acquaintance  no  more  than 
she  does  mine,"  cries  the  first  woman  who  spoke  :  "  I 
have  kept  as  good  company  as  the  lady,  I  believe,  every 
day  in  the  week.  Good  woman  !  I  do  not  use  to  be  so 
treated.  If  the  lady  says  such  another  word  to  me, 
d — n  me,  I  will  darken  her  daylights.  Marry,  come  up ! 
good  woman  !  the  lady's  a  — —  as  well  as  myself;  and 
though  I  am  sent  hither  to  milldoll,  I  have  money  enough 
to  buy  it  oflf  as  well  as  the  lady  herself." 

Action  might  perhaps  soon  have  ensued  this  speech, 
had  not  the  keeper  interposed  his  authority,  and  put  an 
end  to  any  further  dispute :  soon  after  which  the  com- 
pany broke  up ;  and  none  but  himself,  Mr.  Murphy,  Cap- 
tain Booth,  and  Miss  Matthews  remained  together. 

Miss  Matthews  then,  at  the  entreaty  of  the  keeper, 
began  to  open  her  case  to  Mr.  Murphy,  whom  she  ad- 
mitted to  be  her  solicitor,  though  she  still  declared  she 
was  indifferent  as  to  the  event  of  the  trial. 

Mr.  Murphy,  having  heard  all  the  particulars,  with 
which  the  reader  is  already  acquainted,  as  far  as  related 
to  the  murder,  shook  his  head,  and  said,  "  There  is  but 
one  circumstance,  madam,  which  I  wish  was  out  of  the 
case,  and  that  we  must  put  out  of  it;  I  mean  the  carry- 
ing the  penknife  drawn  into  the  room  with  you,  for  that 
seems  to  imply  malice  prepensive,  as  we  call  it  in  the 
law :  this  circumstance,  therefore,  must  not  appear 
against  you ;  and  if  the  servant  who  was  in  the  room 

*  A  cant  word,  meaning  to  swear,  or  rather  perjure  yourself. 


46  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

observed  this,  he  must  be  bought  off  at  all  hazards.  All 
here,  you  say,  are  friends  :  therefore,  I  tell  you  openly, 
you  must  furnish  me  with  money  sufficient  for  the  pur- 
pose.    Malice  is  all  we  have  to  guard  against." 

"  I  would  not  presume,  sir,"  cries  Bootli,  "  to  inform 
you  in  the  law ;  but  I  have  heard,  in  case  of  stabbing,  a 
man  may  be  endicted  upon  the  statute  ;  and  it  is  capital, 
though  no  malice  appears." 

"  You  say  true,  sir,"  answered  Murphy;  "a  man  may 
be  endicted  contra  formam  sLatutis ;  and  that  method,  I 
allow  you,  requires  no  malice.  I  presume  you  are  a 
lawyer,  sir  1" 

'  No,  indeed,  sir,"  answered  Booth,  "  I  know  nothing 
of  the  law." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  will  tell  you,  if  a  man  be  endicted  contra 
formam  statutis,  as  we  say,  no  malice  is  necessary ;  be- 
cause the  form  of  the  statute  makes  malice  :  and  then, 
what  we  have  to  guard  against  is,  having  struck  the  first 
blow.  Pox  on't !  it  is  unlucky  this  was  done  in  a  room  : 
if  it  had  been  in  the  street,  we  could  have  had  five  or  six 
witnesses  to  have  proved  the  first  blow  cheaper  than  1  am 
afraid  we  shall  get  this  one  ;  for  when  a  man  knows,  from 
the  unhappy  circumstances  of  the  case,  that  you  can 
procure  no  other  witness  but  himself,  he  is  always  dear. 
It  is  so  in  all  other  ways  of  business.  I  am  very  ex- 
plicit, you  see  ;  but  we  are  all  among  friends.  The 
safest  way  is  to  furnish  me  with  money  enough  to  oflTer 
him  a  good  round  sum  at  once  ;  and,  I  think  (it  is  for 
your  good  I  speak),  fifty  pounds  is  the  least  that  can  be 
offered  him.  I  do  assure  you  I  would  otfer  him  no  less, 
was  it  my  own  case." 

"  And  do  you  think,  sir,"  said  she  "  that  1  would 
save  my  life  at  the  expense  of  hiring  another  to  perjure 
himself]" 

"  Ay,  surely  do  I,"  cries  Murphy  ;  "  for  where  is  the 
fault,  admitting  there  is  some  fault  in  perjury,  as  you 
call  it  1  and,  to  be  sure,  it  is  such  a  matter  as  every  man 
should  rather  wish  to  avoid  than  not :  and  yet,  as  it  may 
be  managed,  there  is  not  so  much  as  some  people  are 
apt  to  imagine  in  it;  for  he  need  not  kiss  the  book,  and 
then,  pray,  where  is  the  perjury]  but  if  the  crier  is 
sharper  than  ordinary,  what  is  it  he  kisses  ]  is  it  any 
thing  but  a  bit  of  calf-skin  !  I  am  sure  a  man  must  be 
a  very  bad  Christian  himself,  who  would  not  do  so  much 
as  that  to  save  the  life  of  any  Christian  whatever,  much 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  47 

more  of  so  pretty  a  lady.  Indeed,  madam,  if  we  can 
make  out  but  a  tolerable  case,  so  much  beauty  will  go  a 
great  way  with  the  judge  and  the  jury  too." 

The  latter  part  of  this  speech,  notwithstanding  the 
mouth  it  came  from,  caused  Miss  Matthews  to  suppress 
much  of  the  indignation  which  began  to  arise  at  the  for- 
mer; and  she  answered,  with  a  smile,  "Sir,  you  are  a 
great  casuist  in  these  matters ;  but  we  need  argue  no 
longer  concerning  them  ;  for  if  fifty  pounds  w^ould  save 
my  life,  I  assure  you,  I  could  not  command  that  sum. 
The  little  money  I  have  in  my  pocket  is  all  I  can  call 
my  own ;  and,  I  apprehend,  in  the  situation  I  am  in,  I 
shall  have  very  little  of  that  to  spare." 

"  Come,  come,  madam,"  cries  Murphy,  "life  is  sweet, 
let  me  tell  you,  and  never  sweeter  than  when  we  are 
near  losing  it.  I  have  known  many  a  man  very  brave 
and  undaunted  at  his  first  commitment,  who,  when  busi- 
ness began  to  thicken  a  little  upon  him,  has  changed 
his  note.    It  is  no  time  to  be  saving  in  your  condition." 

The  keeper  (who,  after  the  liberality  of  Miss  Mat- 
thews, and  on  seeing  a  purse  of  guineas  in  her  hand, 
had  conceived  a  great  opinion  of  her  wealth)  no  sooner 
heard  that  the  sum,  which  he  had,  in  intention,  entirely 
confiscated  for  his  own  use,  was  attempted  to  be  broken 
in  upon,  but  he  thought  it  high  time  to  be  upon  his 
guard.  "  To  be  sure,"  cries  he,  "  Mr.  Murphy,  life  is 
sweet,  as  you  say,  that  must  be  acknowledged;  to  be 
sure  life  is  sweet ;  but,  sweet  as  it  is,  no  person  can  ad- 
vance more  than  they  are  worth  to  save  it ;  and,  indeed, 
if  the  lady  can  command  no  more  money  than  that  little 
she  mentions,  she  is  to  be  commended  for  her  un- 
willingness to  part  with  any  of  it ;  for,  to  be  sure,  as 
she  says,  she  will  want  every  farthing  of  that,  to  live 
like  a  gentlewoman  till  she  comes  to  her  trial.  And,  to 
be  sure,  as  sweet  as  life  is,  people  ought  to  take  care 
to  be  able  to  live  sweetly  while  they  do  live  :  besides,  I 
cannot  help  saying,  tho  lady  shows  herself  to  be  what 
she  is,  by  her  abhorrence  of  perjury,  which  is  certainly 
a  very  dreadful  crime  :  and,  though  not  kissing  the  book 
does,  as  you  say,  make  a  great  deal  of  difference ;  and 
if  a  man  had  a  great  while  to  live  and  repent,  perhaps 
he  might  swallow  it  well  enough;  yet,  when  people 
comes  to  be  near  their  end  (as  who  can  venture  to 
foretel  what  will  be  the  lady's  case  ])  they  ought  to  take 
care  not  to  overburden  their  conscience.     I  hope  the 


48  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

lady's  case  will  not  be  found  murder ;  for  I  am  sure  I 
always  wish  well  to  all  my  prisoners  who  show  them- 
selves to  be  gentlemen  or  gentlewomen  ;  yet,  one  should 
always  fear  the  worst." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  you  speak  like  an  oracle,"  answered 
the  lady;  "and  one  subornation  of  perjury  would  sit 
heavier  on  my  conscience  than  twenty  such  murders  as 
I  am  guilty  of." 

"  Nay,  to  be  sure,  madam,"  answered  the  keeper, 
"  nobody  can  pretend  to  tell  what  provocation  you  must 
have  had  ;  and  certainly  it  can  never  be  imagined  that 
a  lady,  who  behaves  herself  so  handsomely  as  you  have 
done  ever  since  you  have  been  under  my  keys,  should 
be  guilty  of  killing  a  man  without  being  very  highly 
provoked  to  do  it." 

Mr.  Murphy  was,  I  believe,  going  to  answer,  when  he 
was  called  out  of  the  room ;  after  which,  nothing  passed 
between  the  remaining  persons  worth  relating,  till  Booth 
and  the  lady  retired  back  again  into  the  lady's  apartment. 

Here  they  fell  immediately  to  commenting  on  the 
foregoing  discourse  :  but,  as  their  comments  were,  I  be- 
lieve, the  same  with  what  most  readers  have  made  on 
the  same  occasion,  we  shall  omit  them.  At  last,  Miss 
Matthews  reminding  her  companion  of  his  promise  of 
relating  to  her  what  had  befallen  him  since  the  inter- 
ruption of  their  former  acquaintance,  be  began,  as  is 
written  in  the  next  book  of  this  history. 


BOOK     II. 

Chapter  I. — In  which  Captain  Booth  begins  to  relate  his  history. 

The  tea-table  being  removed,  and  Mr.  Booth  and  the 
lady  left  alone,  he  proceeded  as  follows  : — 

"  Since  you  desire,  madam,  to  know  the  particulars 
of  my  courtship  to  that  best  and  dearest  of  women, 
whom  I  afterward  married,  I  will  endeavour  to  recol- 
lect them  as  well  as  I  can,  at  least  all  those  incidents 
which  are  most  worth  relating  to  you. 

"  If  the  vulgar  opinion  of  the  fatality  in  marriage  had 
ever  any  foundation,  it  surely  appeared  in  my  marriage 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA,  49 

with  my  Amelia.  I  knew  her  in  the  first  dawn  of  her 
beauty,  and,  I  believe,  madam,  she  had  as  much  as  ever 
fell  to  the  share  of  a  woman;  but  though  I  always  ad- 
mired her,  it  was  long  without  any  spark  of  love. 
Perhaps  the  general  admiration  which  at  that  time  pur- 
sued her,  the  respect  paid  her  by  persons  of  the  highest 
rank,  and  the  numberless  addresses  which  were  made 
her  by  men  of  great  fortune,  prevented  my  aspiring  at 
the  possession  of  those  charms  which  seemed  so  abso- 
lutely out  of  my  reach.  However  it  was,  I  assure  you, 
the  accident  which  deprived  her  of  the  admiration  of 
others,  made  the  first  great  impression  on  my  heart  in 
her  favour.  The  injury  done  to  her  beauty  by  the  over- 
turning of  a  chaise,  by  which,  as  you  may  well  remem- 
ber, her  lovely  nose  was  beat  all  to  pieces,  gave  me  an 
assurance,  that  the  woman,  who  had  been  so  much 
adored  for  the  charms  of  her  person,  deserved  a  much 
higher  adoration  to  be  paid  to  her  mind  ;  for  that  she 
was,  in  the  latter  respect,  infinitely  more  superior  to  the 
rest  of  her  sex  than  she  had  ever  been  in  the  former." 

**I  admire  your  taste  extremely,"  cried  the  lady;  "I 
remember  perfectly  well  the  great  heroism  with  which 
your  Amelia  bore  that  misfortune." 

"  Good  Heavens  !  madam,"  answered  he,  "  what  a  mag- 
nanimity of  mind  did  her  behaviour  demonstrate !  If 
the  world  have  extolled  the  firmness  of  soul  in  a  man,  who 
can  support  the  loss  of  fortune  ;  of  a  general,  who  can 
be  composed  after  the  loss  of  a  victory  ;  or  of  a  king, 
who  can  be  contented  with  the  loss  of  a  crown ;  with 
what  astonishment  ought  we  to  behold,  with  what  praises 
to  honour,  a  young  lady,  who  can  with  patience  and  resig- 
nation submit  to  the  loss  of  exquisite  beauty ;  in  other 
words,  to  the  loss  of  fortune,  power,  glory,  everything 
which  human  nature  is  apt  to  court  and  rejoice  in! 
What  must  be  the  mind  which  can  bear  to  be  deprived 
of  all  these  in  a  moment,  and  by  an  unfortunate,  trifling 
accident!  which  could  support  all  this,  together  with 
the  most  exquisite  torments  of  body  ;  and  with  dignity, 
with  resignation,  without  complaining,  almost  without 
a  tear,  undergo  the  most  painful  and  dreadful  operations 
of  surgery  in  such  a  situation  !"  Here  he  stopped,  and 
a  torrent  of  tears  gushed  from  his  eyes ;  such  tears  as 
are  apt  to  flow  from  a  truly  noble  heart,  at  the  hearing 
of  anything  surprisingly  great  and  glorious.  As  soon 
as  he  was  able,  he  again  proceeded  thus  : — 
5  C 


50  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  Would  you  think,  Miss  Matthews,  that  the  misfor- 
tune of  my  Amelia  was  capable  of  any  aggravation  1 
I  assure  you,  she  has  often  told  me  it  was  aggravated 
with  a  circumstance,  which  outweighed  all  the  other  in- 
gredients. This  was  the  cruel  insults  she  received  from 
some  of  her  most  intimate  acquaintance,  several  of 
whom,  after  many  distortions  and  grimaces,  have  turned 
their  heads  aside,  unable  to  support  their  secret  triumph, 
and  burst  into  a  loud  laugh  in  her  hearing." 

"  Good  Heaven  !"  cried  Miss  Matthews,  "  what  detest- 
able actions  will  this  contemptible  passion  of  envy  pre- 
vail on  our  sex  to  commit!" 

"  An  occasion  of  this  kind,  as  she  has  since  told  me, 
made  the  first  impression  on  her  gentle  heart  in  my  fa- 
vour. I  was  one  day  in  company  with  several  young 
ladies,  or  rather  young  devils,  where  poor.  Amelia's  ac- 
cident was  the  subject  of  much  mirth  and  pleasantry. 
One  of  these  said,  she  hoped  miss  would  not  hold  her 
head  so  high  for  the  future.  Another  answered,  I  do 
not  know,  madam-,  what  she  may  do  with  her  head  ;  but 
I  am  convinced  she  will  never  more  turn  up  her  nose  at 
her  betters.'  Another  cried,  What  a  very  proper  match 
might  now  be  made  between  Amelia  and  a  certain  cap- 
tain, who  had  unfortunately  received  an  injury  in  the 
same  part,  though  from  no  shameful  cause.  Many  other 
sarcasms  were  thrown  out,  very  unworthy  to  be  re- 
peated. I  was  hurt  with  perceiving  so  much  malice  in 
human  shape,  and  cried  out,  very  bluntly,  '  Indeed,  la- 
dies, you  need  not  express  such  satisfaction  at  poor 
Miss  Emily's  accident ;  for  she  will  still  be  the  hand- 
somest woman  in  England.'  This  speech  of  mine  was 
afterward  variously  repeated,  by  some  to  my  honour, 
and  by  others  represented  in  a  contrary  light :  indeed, 
it  was  often  reported  to  be  much  ruder  than  it  was. 
However,  it  at  length  reached  Amelia's  ears.  She  said 
she  was  very  much  obliged  to  me  ;  since  I  could  have 
so  much  compassion  for  her  as  to  be  rude  to  a  lady  on 
her  account. 

"About  a  month  after  the  accident,  when  Amelia 
began  to  see  company  in  a  mask,  I  had  the  honour  to 
drink  tea  with  her.  We  were  alone  together,  and  I 
begged  her  to  indulge  my  curiosity  by  showing  me  her 
face.  She  answered,  in  a  most  obliging  manner,  '  Per- 
haps, Mr.  Booth,  you  will  as  little  know  me  when  my 
mask  is  off,  as  when  it  is  on  ;'  and  at  the  same  instant 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  51 

unmasked.  The  surgeon's  skill  was  the  least  I  consid- 
ered. A  thousand  tender  ideas  rushed  all  at  once  on 
my  mind.  I  was  unable  to  contain  myself,  and  eagerly 
kissing  her  hand,  I  cried, '  Upon  my  soul,  madam,  you 
never  appeared  to  me  so  lovely  as  at  this  instant.'  No- 
thing more  remarkable  passed  at  this  visit ;  but  1  sin- 
cerely believe  we  were  neither  of  us  hereafter  indiffer- 
ent to  each  other. 

"  Many  months,  however,  passed  after  this,  before  I 
ever  thought  seriously  of  making  her  my  wife  :  not  that 
I  wanted  sufficient  love  for  Amelia ;  indeed,  it  arose 
from  the  vast  affection  I  bore  her.  I  considered  my 
own  as  a  desperate  fortune,  hers  as  entirely  dependant 
on  her  mother,  who  was  a  woman,  you  know,  of  violent 
passions,  and  very  unlikely  to  consent  to  a  match  so 
highly  contrary  to  the  interest  of  her  daughter.  The 
more  1  loved  Amelia,  the  more  firmly  1  resolved  within 
myself  never  to  propose  love  to  her  seriously;  such  a 
dupe  was  my  understanding  to  my  heart ;  and  so  fool- 
ishly did  I  imagine  I  could  be  master  of  a  flame,  to 
which  I  was  every  day  adding  fuel. 

'•  Oil,  Miss  Matthews  !  we  have  heard  of  men  entirely 
masters  of  their  passions,  and  of  hearts  which  can  carry 
this  fire  in  tliem,  and  conceal  it  at  their  pleasure.  Per- 
haps there  may  be  such  ;  but  if  there  are,  those  hearts 
may  be  compared,  I  believe,  to  damps,  in  which  it  is 
more  difficult  to  keep  fire  ahve  than  to  prevent  its  bla- 
zing ;  in  mine,  it  was  placed  in  the  midst  of  combustible 
matter. 

"  After  several  visits,  in  which  looks  and  sighs  had 
been  interchanged  on  both  sides,  but  without  the  least 
mention  of  passion  in  private,  one  day  the  discourse  be- 
tween us,  when  alone,  happened  to  turn  on  love ;  I  say 
happened,  for  I  protest  it  was  not  designed  on  my  side, 
and  I  am  as  firmly  convinced  not  on  hers.  1  was  now 
no  longer  master  of  myself ;  I  declared  myself  the 
most  wretched  of  all  martyrs  to  this  tender  passion ;  that 
I  had  long  concealed  it  from  its  object.  At  length,  after 
mentioning  many  particulars,  suppressing,  however, 
those  which  must  have  necessarily  brought  it  home  to 
Amelia,  I  concluded  with  begging  her  to  be  the  confidant 
of  my  amour,  and  to  give  me  her  advice  on  that  occasion. 

"  Amelia  (oh,  1  shall  never  forget  the  dear  perturba- 
tion !)  appeared  all  confusion  at  this  instant.  She 
trembled,  turned  pale,  and  discovered  how  well  she  un- 
C2 


52  THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA. 

derstood  me,  by  a  thousand  more  symptoms  than  I 
could  take  notice  of,  in  a  state  of  mind  so  very  little 
different  from  her  own.  At  last,  with  faltering  accents, 
she  said,  1  had  made  a  very  ill  choice  of  a  counsellor,  in 
a  matter  in  which  she  was  so  ignorant  :  adding,  at  last 
— '  I  believe,  Mr.  Booth,  you  gentlemen  want  very  little 
advice  in  these  affairs,  which  you  all  understand  better 
than  we  do.' 

"  I  will  relate  no  more  of  our  conversation  at  present ; 
indeed,  I  am  afraid  I  tire  you  with  too  many  partic- 
ulars." 

"  Oh  no,"  answered  she  :  "  I  should  be  glad  to  hear 
every  step  of  an  amour  which  had  so  tender  a  be- 
ginning. Tell  me  everything  you  said  or  did,  if  you 
can  remember  it." 

He  then  proceeded  ;  and  so  will  we  in  the  next  chap- 
ter. 


Chapter  II. — Mr.  Booth  continues  his  story. — In  this  chapter  there 
are  some  passages  that  may  serve  as  a  kind  of  touchstone,  by  which 
a  young  lady  may  examine  the  heart  of  her  lover  :  I  would  ad- 
vise, therefore,  that  every  lover  be  obliged  to  read  it  over  m  the 
presence  of  his  mistress,  and  that  she  carefully  watch  his  emo- 
tions while  he  is  reading. 

"  I  WAS  under  the  utmost  concern,"  cries  Booth, "  when 
I  retired  from  my  visit,  and  had  reflected  coolly  on 
what  I  had  said.  I  now  saw  plainly  that  I  had  made 
downright  love  to  Amelia  ;  and  I  feared,  such  was  my 
vanity,  that  I  had  already  gone  too  far,  and  been  too 
successful.  Feared,  do  I  say  1  Could  I  fear  what  I 
hoped  1    How  shall  I  describe  the  anxiety  of  my  mind  ?" 

"  You  need  give  yourself  no  great  pain,"  cried  Miss 
Matthews,  "  to  describe  what  I  can  so  easily  guess. 
To  be  honest  with  you,  Mr.  Booth,  1  do  not  agree  with 
your  lady's  opinion,  that  the  men  have  a  superior  under- 
standing in  the  matters  of  love.  Men  are  often  blind  to 
the  passions  of  women  :  but  every  woman  is  as  quick- 
sighted  as  a  hawk  on  these  occasions  ;  nor  is  there  one 
article  in  the  whole  science  which  is  not  understood  by 
all  our  sex." 

"  However,  madam,"  said  Mr.  Booth,  "  I  now  under- 
took to  deceive  Ameha.  1  abstained  three  days  from 
seeing  her :  to  say  the  truth,  I  endeavoured  to  work  my- 
self up  to  a  resolution  of  leaving  her  for  ever;   but 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  63 

when  I  could  not  so  far  subdue  my  passion —  But  why- 
do  I  talk  nonsense  of  subduing  passion  ]  1  should  say,  when 
no  other  passion  could  surmount  my  love,  I  returned 
to  visit  her  ;  and  now  I  attempted  the  strangest  project 
which  ever  entered  into  the  silly  head  of  a  lover.  This 
was  to  persuade  Amelia  that  1  was  really  in  love  in  an- 
other place,  and  had  literally  expressed  my  meaning, 
when  I  asked  her  advice,  and  desired  her  to  be  my  con- 
fidant. 

"  I  therefore  forged  a  meeting  to  have  been  between 
me  and  my  imaginary  mistress,  since  I  had  last  seen 
Amelia,  and  related  the  particulars,  as  well  as  I  could 
invent  them,  which  had  passed  at  our  conversation. 

"  Poor  Amelia  presently  swallowed  this  bait,  and,  as 
she  has  told  me  since,  absolutely  believed  me  to  be  in 
earnest.  Poor,  dear  love  !  how  should  the  sincerest  of 
hearts  have  an  idea  of  deceit?  for,  with  all  her  simpli- 
city, I  assure  you  she  is  the  most  sensible  woman  in  the 
world." 

"  It  is  highly  generous  and  good  in  you,"  said  Miss 
Matthews,  with  a  sly  sneer,  "  to  impute  to  honesty, 
what  others  would,  perhaps,  call  credulity." 

"  I  protest,  madam,"  answered  he,  "I  do  her  no  more 
than  justice.  A  good  heart  will  at  all  times  betray  the 
best  head  in  the  world.  Well,  madam,  my  angel  was 
now,  if  possible,  more  confused  than  before.  She  looked 
so  silly,  you  can  hardly  believe  it." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  can,"  answered  the  lady  with  a  laugh ; 
"lean  believe  it.  Well,  well,  go  on."  "After  some 
hesitation,"  continued  he,  "  my  Amelia  said  faintly  to 
me,  '  Mr.  Booth,  you  use  me  very  ill ;  you  desire  me  to 
be  your  confidant,  and  conceal  from  me  the  name  of 
your  mistress.' 

"  '  Is  it  possible  then,  madam,'  answered  I,  '  that  you 
cannot  guess  her,  when  I  tell  you  she  is  one  of  your 
acquaintance,  and  lives  in  this  town  V 

"  '  My  acquaintance !'  said  she, '  la !  Mr.  Booth.  In  this 
town  !  I — I — I  thought  I  could  have  guessed  for  once  ; 
but  I  have  an  ill  talent  that  way — I  will  never  attempt 
to  guess  anything  again.'  Indeed,  I  do  her  an  injury 
when  I  pretend  to  represent  her  manner.  Her  manner, 
look,  voice,  everything  was  inimitable  ;  such  sweetness, 
softness,  innocence,  modesty, — upon  my  soul,  if  ever 
man  could  boast  of  his  resolution,  I  think  I  might  now, 
that  I  abstained  from  falling  prostrate  at  her  feet,  and 
5* 


54  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

adoring  her.  However,  I  triumphed;  pride,  I  believe, 
triumphed,  or  perhaps  love  got  the  better  of  love.  We 
once  more  parted,  and  I  promised,  the  next  time  I  saw 
her,  to  reveal  the  name  of  my  mistress. 

"  I  now  had,  I  thought,  gained  a  complete  victory 
over  myself;  and  no  small  compliments  did  I  pay  to  my 
own  resolution.  In  short,  I  triumphed  as  cowards  and 
niggards  do,  when  they  flatter  themselves  with  having 
given  some  supposed  instance  of  courage  or  generosity  ; 
and  my  triumph  lasted  as  long ;  that  is  to  say,  till  my 
ascendant  passion  had  a  proper  opportunity  of  displaying 
itself  in  its  true  and  natural  colours. 

"  Having  hitherto  succeeded  so  well  in  my  own  opinion 
and  obtained  this  mighty  self-conquest,  I  now  enter- 
tained a  design  of  exerting  the  most  romantic  generosity, 
and  of  curing  that  unhappy  passion  which  I  perceived  I 
had  raised  in  Amelia. 

"  Among  the  ladies  who  had  expressed  the  greatest 
satisfaction  at  my  Amelia's  misfortunes,  Miss  Osborne 
had  distinguished  herself  in  a  very  eminent  degree  :  she 
was,  indeed,  the  next  in  beauty  to  my  angel ;  nay,  she 
had  disputed  the  preference,  and  had  some  among  her 
admirers,  who  were  blind  enough  to  give  it  in  her 
favour." 

"  Well,"  cries  the  lady,  "  I  will  allow  you  to  call 
them  blind  ;  but  Miss  Osborne  was  a  charming  girl." 

"  She  certainly  was  handsome,"  answered  he,  "  and  a 
very  considerable  fortune  ;  so  I  thought  my  Ameha 
would  have  little  difficulty  in  believing  me,  when  I  fixed 
on  her  as  my  mistress :  and  I  concluded,  that  my  thus 
placing  my  affections  on  her  known  enemy,  would  be 
the  surest  method  of  eradicating  every  tender  idea  with 
which  I  had  been  ever  honoured  by  Amelia. 

"  Well,  then,  to  Amelia  1  went :  she  received  me  with 
more  than  usual  coldness  and  reserve  ;  in  which,  to  con- 
fess the  truth,  there  appeared  to  me  more  of  anger  than 
indifference,  and  more  of  dejection  than  of  either.  After 
some  short  introduction,  I  revived  the  discourse  of  my 
amour,  and  presently  mentioned  Miss  Osborne  as  the 
lady  whose  name  I  had  concealed  ;  adding,  that  the  true 
reason  why  I  did  not  mention  her  before  was,  that  I 
apprehended  there  was  some  little  distance  between 
them,  which  I  hoped  to  have  the  happiness  of  accom- 
modating. 

*'  Amelia  answered,  with  much  gravity, '  If  you  know, 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  65 

sir,  that  there  is  any  distance  between  us,  I  suppose  you 
know  the  reason  of  that  distance  ;  and  then,  1  think,  I 
could  not  have  expected  to  be  affronted  by  her  name.  I 
would  not  have  you  think,  Mr.  Booth,  that  I  hate  Miss 
Osborne  :  no,  Heaven  is  my  witness,  I  despise  her  too 
much.  Indeed,  when  I  reflect  how  much  I  loved  the 
woman  who  has  treated  me  so  cruelly,  I  own  it  gives 
me  pain.  When  I  lay,  as  I  then  imagined,  and  as  all 
about  me  believed,  on  my  deathbed,  in  all  the  agonies 
of  pain  and  misery,  to  become  the  object  of  laughter  to 
my  dearest  friend  !  oh,  Mr.  Booth,  it  is  a  cruel  reflec- 
tion ;  and  could  I,  after  this,  have  expected  from  you — 
but  why  not  from  you,  to  whom  I  am  a  person  entirely 
indifferent,  if  such  a  friend  could  treat  me  so  barba- 
rously V 

"  During  the  greater  part  of  this  speech,  the  tears 
streamed  from  her  bright  eyes.  1  could  endure  it  no 
longer.  I  caught  up  the  word  indifferent,  and  repeated 
it,  saying,  *  Do  you  think  then,  madam,  that  Miss  Emily 
is  indifferent  to  me  V 

" '  Yes,  surely  I  do,'  answered  she :  '  1  know  I  am  : 
indeed,  why  should  I  not  be  indifferent  to  you  V  '  Have 
my  eyes,'  said  I,  '  then  declared  nothing  V 

" '  Oh,  there  is  no  need  of  your  eyes,'  answered  she  ; 
*  your  tongue  has  declared  that  you  have  singled  out  of  all 
womankind  my  greatest,  I  will  say,  my  basest  enemy. 
I  own  I  once  thought  that  character  would  have  been 
no  recommendation  to  you  ;  but  why  did  I  think  so  ?  1 
was  born  to  deceive  myself.' 

*'  I  then  fell  on  my  knees  before  her,  and,  forcing  her 
hand,  cried  out,  '  Oh,  my  Amelia  !  I  can  bear  no  longer. 
You  are  the  only  mistress  of  my  affections  ;  you  are  the 
deity  I  adore.'  In  this  style  I  ran  on  for  above  two  or 
three  minutes  what  it  is  impossible  to  repeat,  till  a  torrent 
of  contending  passions,  together  with  the  surprise,  over- 
powered her  gentle  spirits,  and  she  fainted  away  in  my 
arms. 

"  To  describe  my  sensation,  till  she  returned  to  her- 
self, is  not  in  my  power."  "  You  need  not,"  cries  Miss 
Matthews.  "  Oh,  happy  Amelia !  why  had  I  not  been 
blessed  with  such  a  passion  1"  "  I  am  convinced,  mad 
am,"  continued  he, "  you  cannot  expect  all  the  particulars 
of  the  tender  scene  which  ensued.  I  was  not  enough  in 
my  senses  to  remember  it  all.  Let  it  suffice  to  say,  that 
that  behaviour  with  which  Amelia,  while  ignorant  of  its 


56  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

motive,  had  been  so  much  displeased,  when  she  became 
sensible  of  that  motive,  proved  the  strongest  recommen- 
dation to  her  favour;  and  she  was  pleased  to  call  it 
generous." 

"  Generous  !"  repeated  the  lady :  "  and  so  it  was,  al- 
most beyond  the  reach  of  humanity.  I  question  whether 
you  ever  had  an  equal." 

Perhaps  the  critical  reader  may  have  the  same  doubt 
with  Miss  Matthews ;  and  lest  he  should,  we  will  here 
make  a  gap  in  our  history,  to  give  him  an  opportunity  of 
accurately  considering  whether  this  conduct  of  Mr.  Booth 
was  natural  or  no  ;  and,  consequently,  whether  we  have, 
in  this  place,  maintained  or  deviated  from  that  strict  ad- 
herence to  universal  truth,  which  we  profess  above  all 
other  historians. 


Chapter  III. — The  narrative  continued— more  of  the  touchstone. 

Booth  made  a  proper  acknowledgment  of  Miss  Mat- 
thews' civility,  and  then  renewed  his  story. 

"We  were  upon  the  footing  of  lovers;  and  Amelia 
threw  off  her  reserve  more  and  more,  till  at  length  I 
found  all  that  return  of  my  affection  which  the  tenderest 
lover  can  require. 

"  My  situation  would  now  have  been  a  paradise,  had 
not  my  happiness  been  interrupted  with  the  same  reflec- 
tions I  have  already  mentioned  ;  had  I  not,  in  short,  con- 
cluded, that  I  must  derive  all  my  joys  from  the  almost 
certain  ruin  of  that  dear  creature  to  whom  I  should  owe 
them. 

"  This  thought  haunted  me  night  and  day,  till  I  at 
last  grew  unable  to  support  it :  I  therefore  resolved,  in 
the  strongest  manner,  to  lay  it  before  Amelia. 

"  One  evening,  th«n,  after  the  highest  professions  of 
the  most  disinterested  love,  in  which  Heaven  knows 
my  sincerity,  I  took  an  occasion  to  speak  to  Amelia  in 
the  following  manner  : — 

"  *  Too  true  is  it,  I  am  afraid,  my  dearest  creature, 
that  the  highest  human  happiness  is  imperfect.  How 
rich  would  be  my  cup,  was  it  not  for  one  poisonous 
drop  which  imbitters  the  whole!  Oh,  Ameha,  what 
must  be  the  consequence  of  my  ever  having  the  honour 
to  call  you  mine !    You  know  my  situation  in  life,  and 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  57 

you  know  your  own :  I  have  lathing  more  than  the 
poor  provision  of  an  ensign's  commission  to  depend 
on  ;  your  sole  dependance  is  on  your  mother :  should 
any  acts  of  disobedience  defeat  your  expectations,  how 
wretched  must  your  lot  be  with  me  !  Oh,  Amelia,  how 
ghastly  an  object  to  my  mind  is  the  apprehension  of 
your  distress  !  Can  I  bear  to  reflect  a  moment  on  the 
certainty  of  your  foregoing  all  the  conveniences  of  life ; 
on  the  possibility  of  your  suffering  all  its  most  dreadful 
inconveniences  !  What  must  be  my  misery  then,  to  see 
you  in  such  a  situation,  and  to  upbraid  myself  with  be- 
ing the  accursed  cause  of  bringing  you  to  it  1  Sup- 
pose too,  in  such  a  season,  I  should  be  summoned  from 
you ;  could  I  submit  to  see  you  encounter  all  the  haz- 
ards, the  fatigues  of  war,  with  me  1  you  could  not 
yourself,  however  willing,  support  them  a  single  cam- 
paign. What  then !  must  1  leave  you  to  starve  alone, 
deprived  of  the  tenderness  of  a  husband  ;  deprived, 
too,  of  the  tenderness  of  the  best  of  mothers,  through 
my  means  1  a  woman  most  dear  to  me,  for  being  the 
parent,  the  nurse,  and  the  friend  of  my  Amelia.  But 
oh,  my  sweet  creature,  carry  your  thoughts  a  little 
further.  Think  of  the  tenderest  consequences,  the 
dearest  pledges  of  our  love.  Can  I  bear  to  think  of 
entailing  beggary  on  the  posterity  of  my  Amelia  ]  on 
our — oh,  Heavens  ! — on  our  children  !  On  the  other 
side,  (is  it  possible  even  to  mention  the  word  1)  I  will 
not,  must  not,  cannot,  cannot  part  with  you.  What 
must  we  do,  Amelia  1  It  is  now  1  sincerely  ask  your 
advice.' 

" '  What  advice  can  I  give  you,'  said  she,  '  in  such 
an  alternative  1     Would  to  Heaven  we  had  never  met !' 

"  These  words  were  accompanied  with  a  sigh,  and  a 
look  inexpressibly  tender ;  the  tears,  at  the  same  time, 
overflowing  all  her  lovely  cheeks.  I  was  endeavouring 
to  reply,  when  I  was  interrupted  by  what  soon  put  an 
end  to  the  scene. 

"  Our  amour  had  already  been  buzzed  all  over  the 
town  ;  and  it  came  at  last  to  the  ears  of  Mrs.  Harris. 
I  had  indeed  observed  of  late  a  great  alteration  in  that 
lady's  behaviour  towards  me,  v/henever  I  visited  at  the 
house  ;  nor  could  I,  for  a  long  time  before  this  evening, 
ever  obtain  a  private  interview  with  Amelia  ;  and  now, 
it  seems,  I  owed  it  to  her  mother's  intention  of  over- 
hearing all  that  passed  between  us. 
C3 


58  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"At  the  period  then  above  mentioned,  Mrs.  Harris 
burst  from  the  closet,  where  she  had  hid  herself,  and 
surprised  her  daughter,  recliningr  on  my  bosom,  in  all 
that  tender  sorrow  I  have  just  described.  I  will  not 
attempt  to  paint  the  rage  of  the  mother,  or  the  daugh- 
ter's confusion,  or  my  own.  '  Here  are  very  fine  do- 
ings, indeed,'  cried  Mrs.  Harris  ;  '  you  have  made  a 
noble  use,  Amelia,  of  my  indulgence,  and  the  trust  I 
reposed  in  you.  As  for  you,  Mr.  Booth,  I  will  not 
accuse  you  ;  you  have  used  my  child  as  I  ought  to  have 
expected ;  I  may  thank  myself  for  what  has  happened  ;' 
with  much  more  of  the  same  kind,  before  she  would 
suffer  me  to  speak :  but  at  last  I  obtained  a  hearing, 
and  offered  to  excuse  my  poor  Amelia,  who  was  ready 
to  sink  into  the  earth  under  the  oppression  of  grief,  by 
taking  as  much  blame  as  1  could  on  myself.  Mrs. 
Harris  answered,  '  No,  sir,  I  must  say  you  are  innocent 
in  comparison  of  her  ;  nay,  I  can  say,  I  have  heard  you 
use  dissuasive  arguments  ;  and  I  promise  you  they  are 
of  weight.  I  have,  I  thank  Heaven,  one  dutiful  child, 
and  I  shall  henceforth  think  her  my  only  one.'  She 
then  forced  the  poor,  trembling,  fainting  Amelia  out  of 
the  room  ;  which,  when  she  had  done,  she  began  very 
coolly  to  reason  with  me  on  the  folly,  as  well  as  ini- 
quity, which  I  had  been  guilty  of;  and  repeated  to  me 
almost  every  word  I  had  before  urged  to  her  daughter. 
In  fine,  she  at  last  obtained  of  me  a  promise  that  I 
would  soon  go  to  my  regiment,  and  submit  to  any  misery, 
rather  than  that  of  being  the  ruin  of  Amelia. 

"  I  now,  for  many  days,  endured  the  greatest  tor- 
ments which  the  human  mind  is,  I  believe,  capable  of 
feeling ;  and  I  can  honestly  say,  I  tried  all  the  means, 
and  applied  every  argument  which  I  could  raise,  to  cure 
me  of  my  love ;  and  to  make  these  the  more  effectual, 
I  spent  every  night  in  walking  backward  and  forward 
in  the  sight  of  Mrs.  Harris's  house,  where  1  never  failed 
to  find  some  object  or  other  which  raised  some  tender 
idea  of  my  lovely  Amelia,  and  almost  drove  me  to  dis- 
traction." 

*'And  don't  you  think,  sir,"  said  Miss  Matthews, 
"  you  took  a  most  preposterous  method  to  cure  your- 
self]" 

"  Alas,  madam,"  answered  he,  "you  cannot  see  it  in 
a  more  absurd  hght  than  I  do ;  but  those  know  little  of 
real  love  or  grief,  who  do  not  know  how  much  we  de- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  59 

ceive  ourselves  when  we  pretend  to  aim  at  the  cure  of 
either.  It  is  with  these,  as  it  is  with  some  distempers 
of  the  body-;  nothing  is  in  the  least  agreeable  to  us,  but 
what  serves  to  heighten  the  disease. 

"  At  the  end  of  a  fortnight,  v/hen  I  was  driven  almost 
to  the  highest  degree  of  despair,  and  could  contrive  no 
method  of  conveying  a  letter  to  Amelia,  how  was  I  sur- 
prised, when  Mrs.  Harris's  servant  brought  me  a  card, 
with  an  invitation  from  the  mother  herself,  to  drink  tea 
that  evening  at  her  house ! 

"  You  will  easily  believe,  madam,  that  I  did  not  fail 
so  agreeable  an  appointment.  On  my  arrival,  1  was 
introduced  into  a  large  company  of  men  and  women, 
Mrs.  Harris  and  my  Amelia  being  part  of  the  com- 
pany. 

*'  Amelia  seemed,  in  my  eyes,  to  look  more  beautiful 
than  ever,  and  behaved  with  all  the  gayety  imaginable. 
The  old  lady  treated  me  with  much  civility ;  but  the 
young  lady  took  little  notice  of  me,  and  addressed  most 
of  her  discourse  to  another  gentleman  present.  In- 
deed, she  now  and  then  gave  me  a  look  of  no  discour- 
aging kind ;  and  I  observed  her  colour  change  more 
than  once  when  her  eyes  met  mine  ;  circumstances 
which,  perhaps,  ought  to  have  afforded  me  sufficient 
comfort :  but  they  could  not  allay  the  thousand  doubts 
and  fears  with  which  I  was  alarmed ;  for  my  anxious 
thoughts  suggested  no  less  to  me  than  that  Amelia  had 
made  her  peace  with  her  mother  at  the  price  of  aban- 
doning me  for  ever,  and  of  giving  her  ear  to  some  other 
lover.  All  my  prudence  now  vanished  at  once  ;  and  I 
would  that  instant  have  gladly  run  away  with  Amelia, 
and  have  married  her  without  the  least  consideration 
of  any  consequences. 

"  With  such  thoughts  I  had  tormented  myself  for 
near  two  hours,  till  most  of  the  company  had  taken 
their  leave.  This  I  was  myself  incapable  of  doing ; 
nor  do  I  know  when  I  should  have  put  an  end  to  my 
visit,  had  not  Dr^  Harrison  taken  me  away  almost  by 
force,  telling  me,  in  a  whisper,  that  he  had  something 
to  say  to  me  of  great  consequence.  You  know  the 
doctor,  madam  f 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  answered  Miss  Matthews ;  "  and 
one  of  the  best  men  in  the  world  he  is,  and  an  honour 
to  the  sacred  order  to  which  he  belongs." 


60  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  You  will  judge,"  replied  Booth,  "  by  the  sequei, 
whether  I  have  reason  to  think  him  so."  He  then  pro- 
ceeded as  in  the  next  chapter. 


Chapter  VI.— The  story  of  Mr.  Booth  continued. — In  this  chapter 
the  reader  will  perceive  a  glimpse  of  the  character  of  a  very  good 
divine ;  with  some  matters  of  a  very  tender  kind. 

"  The  doctor  conducted  me  into  his  study ;  and  then, 
desiring  me  to  sit  down,  began,  as  near  as  I  can  remem- 
ber, in  these  words,  or  at  least  to  this  purpose :  '  You 
cannot  imagine,  young  gentleman,  that  your  love  for 
Miss  Emily  is  any  secret  in  this  place  :  I  have  known  it 
some  time,  and  have  been,  I  assure  you,  very  much 
your  enemy  in  this  affair.'  I  answered,  that  I  was  very 
much  obliged  to  him. 

" '  Why,  so  you  are,'  replied  he :  '  and  so,  perhaps,  you 
will  think  yourself,  when  you  know  all.  I  went,  about 
a  fortnight  ago,  to  Mrs.  Harris,  to  acquaint  her  with  my 
apprehensions  on  her  daughter's  account ;  for  though  the 
matter  was  much  talked  of,  I  thought  it  might  possibly 
not  have  reached  her  ears.  1  will  be  very  plain  with 
you.  I  advised  her  to  take  all  possible  care  of  the 
young  lady,  and  even  to  send  her  to  some  place  where 
she  might  be  effectually  kept  out  of  your  reach,  while 
you  remained  in  the  town.' 

" '  And  do  you  think,  sir,'  said  I, '  that  this  was  acting  a 
kind  part  by  me  1  or  do  you  expect  that  I  should  thank 
you  on  this  occasion  V 

" '  Young  man,'  answered  he, '  I  did  not  intend  you  any 
kindness,  nor  do  I  desire  any  of  your  thanks.  My  in- 
tention was  to  preserve  a  worthy  lady  from  a  young  fel- 
low of  whom  I  had  heard  no  good  character,  and  whom 
I  imagined  to  have  a  design  of  stealing  a  human  crea- 
ture for  the  sake  of  her  fortune.'  '  It  was  very  kind  of 
you,  indeed,'  answered  I,  'to  entertain  such  an  opinion 
of  me.' 

" '  Why,  sir,'  replied  the  doctor, '  it  is  the  opinion  which, 
I  believe,  most  of  you  young  gentlemen  of  the  order  of 
the  rag  deserve.  I  have  known  some  instances,  and 
have  heard  of  more,  where  such  young  fellows  have 
committed  robbery  under  the  name  of  marriage.' 

"  I  was  going  to  interrupt  him  with  some  anger,  when 
he  desired  me  to  have  a  little  patience,  and  then  informed 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  61 

me  that  he  had  visited  Mrs.  Harris,  with  the  above- 
mentioned  design,  the  evening  after  the  discovery  I  have 
related  ;  that  Mrs.  Harris,  without  waiting  for  his  in- 
formation, had  recomited  to  him  all  which  had  happened 
the  evening  before ;  and,  indeed,  she  must  have  an  ex- 
cellent memory,  for  I  think  she  repeated  every  word  I 
said;  and  added,  that  she  had  confined  her  daughter  to 
her  chamber,  where  she  kept  her  a  close  prisoner,  and 
had  not  seen  her  since. 

"  I  cannot  express,  nor  would  modesty  suffer  me  if  I 
could,  all  that  now  passed.  The  doctor  took  me  by  the 
hand,  and  burst  forth  into  the  warmest  commendations 
of  the  sense  and  generosity  which  he  was  pleased  to 
say  discovered  themselves  in  my  speech.  You  know, 
madam,  his  strong  and  singular  way  of  expressing  him- 
self on  all  occasions,  especially  when  he  is  affected  with 
anything.  *  Sir,'  said  he, '  if  I  knew  half  a  dozen  such  in- 
stances in  the  army,  the  painter  should  put  red  Uveries 
upon  all  the  saints  in  my  closet.' 

"  From  this  instant,  the  doctor  told  me,  he  had  become 
my  friend  and  zealous  advocate  with  Mrs.  Harris,  on 
whom  he  had  at  last  prevailed,  though  not  without  the 
greatest  difficulty,  to  consent  to  my  marrying  Amelia, 
upon  condition  that  I  settled  every  penny  which  the 
mother  should  lay  down ;  and  that  she  would  retain  a 
certain  sum  in  her  hands,  which  she  would  at  any  time 
deposite  for  my  advancement  in  the  army. 

*'  You  will,  1  hope,  madam,  conceive  that  I  made  no 
hesitation  at  these  conditions;  nor  need  I  mention  the 
joy  which  I  felt  on  this  occasion,  or  the  acknowledg- 
ment I  paid  the  doctor,  who  is,  indeed,  as  you  say,  one 
of  the  best  of  men. 

"  The  next  morning  I  had  permission  to  visit  Amelia, 
who  received  me  in  such  a  manner  that  1  now  concluded 
my  happiness  to  be  complete. 

"  Everything  was  now  agreed  on  all  sides,  and  law- 
yers employed  to  prepare  the  writings,  when  an  unex- 
pected cloud  arose  suddenly  in  our  serene  sky,  and  all 
our  joys  were  obscured  in  a  moment. 

"  When  matters  were,  as  I  apprehended,  drawing  near 
a  conclusion,  I  received  an  express,  that  a  sister,  whom 
I  tenderly  loved,  was  seized  with  a  violent  fever,  and 
earnestly  desired  me  to  come  to  her.  I  immediately 
obeyed  the  summons,  though  it  was  then  about  two  in 
the  morning,  without  staying  even  to  take  leave  of 
6 


62  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

Amelia,  for  whom  I  left  a  short  billet,  acquainting  her 
with  the  reason  of  my  absence. 

*'  The  gentleman's  house  where  my  sister  then  was 
stood  at  fifty  miles  distance  ;  and  though  1  used  the  ut- 
most expedition,  the  unmerciful  distemper  had,  before 
my  arrival,  entirely  deprived  the  poor  girl  of  her  senses, 
as  it  soon  after  did  of  her  life. 

*'  Not  all  the  love  I  bore  Amelia,  nor  the  tumultuous 
delight  with  which  the  approaching  hour  of  possessing 
her  filled  my  heart,  could,  for  a  while,  allay  my  grief  at 
the  loss  of  my  beloved  Nancy.  Upon  my  soul,  I  cannot 
yet  mention  her  name  without  tears.  Never  brother 
and  sister  had,  I  believe,  a  higher  friendship  for  each 
other.  Poor,  dear  girl !  while  1  sat  by  her  in  her  light- 
headed fits,  she  repeated  scarce  any  other  name  but 
mine ;  and  it  plainly  appeared,  that  when  her  dear  rea- 
son was  ravished  away  from  her,  it  had  left  my  image  on 
her  fancy,  and  that  the  last  use  she  had  made  of  it  was 
to  think  on  me.  '  Send  for  my  dear  Billy  immediately,' 
she  cried :  '  I  know  he  will  come  to  me  in  a  moment. 
Will  nobody  fetch  him  to  me  1  Pray,  don't  kill  me  be- 
fore I  see  him  once  more  :  you  durst  not  use  me  so  if 
he  was  here.'  Every  accent  still  rings  in  my  ears.  Oh 
Heavens !  to  hear  this,  and  at  the  same  time  to  see  the 
poor,  delirious  creature  deriving  the  greatest  horrors  from 
my  sight,  and  mistaking  me  for  a  highwayman  who  had 
a  little  before  robbed  her  !  But  I  ask  your  pardon :  the 
sensations  I  felt  are  to  be  known  only  from  experience, 
and  to  you  must  appear  dull  and  insipid.  At  last,  she 
seemed  for  a  moment  to  know  me,  and  cried,  'Oh 
Heavens  !  my  dearest  brother  !'  upon  which  she  fell  into 
immediate  convulsions,  and  died  away  in  my  arms." 

Here  Booth  stopped  a  moment,  and  wiped  his  eyes  ; 
and  Miss  Matthews,  perhaps  out  of  complaisance,  wiped 
hers. 


Chapter  V.— Containing  strange  revolutions  of  Fortune. 

Booth  proceeded  thus  : — 

"This  loss,  perhaps,  madam,  you  will  think  had  made 
me  miserable  enough,  but  Fortune  did  not  think  so ;  for 
on  the  day  when  my  Nancy  was  to  be  buried,  a  courier 
arrived  from  Dr.  Harrison  with  a  letter,  in  which  the 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  63 

doctor  acquainted  me,  that  he  was  just  come  from  Mrs. 
Harris,  when  he  despatched  the  express  ;  and  earnestly- 
desired  me  to  return  the  very  instant  I  received  his  let- 
ter, as  1  valued  my  Amelia.  '  Though  if  the  daughter,' 
added  he, '  should  take  after  her  mother  (as  most  of  them 
do,)  it  will  be,  perhaps,  wiser  in  you  to  stay  away.' 

"  I  presently  sent  for  the  messenger  into  my  room, 
and  with  much  difficulty  extorted  from  him,  that  a  great 
squire  in  his  coach  and  six  was  come  to  Mrs.  Harris's, 
and  that  the  whole  town  said  he  was  shortly  to  be  mar- 
ried to  Amelia. 

"  I  now  soon  perceived  how  much  superior  my  love 
for  Amelia  was  to  every  other  passion :  poor  Nancy's 
idea  disappeared  in  a  moment :  I  quitted  the  dear  life- 
less corpse,  over  which  I  had  shed  a  thousand  tears ; 
left  the  care  of  her  funeral  to  others ;  and  posted,  1  may 
almost  say,  flew  back  to  Amelia,  and  alighted  at  the 
doctor's  house,  as  he  had  desired  me  in  his  letter. 

"  The  good  man  presently  acquainted  me  with  what 
had  happened  in  my  absence.  Mr.  Winckworth  had,  it 
seems,  arrived  the  very  day  of  my  departure,  with  a 
grand  equipage,  and,  without  delay,  had  made  formal 
proposals  to  Mrs.  Harris,  offering  to  settle  any  part  of 
his  vast  estate,  in  whatever  manner  she  pleased,  on 
Amelia.  These  proposals  the  old  lady  had,  without  any 
deliberation,  accepted,  and  had  insisted,  in  the  most 
violent  manner,  on  her  daughter's  compliance,  which 
Amelia  had  as  peremptorily  refused  to  give  ;  insisting, 
on  her  part,  on  the  consent  which  her  mother  had  be- 
fore given  to  our  marriage,  in  which  she  was  heartily 
seconded  by  the  doctor,  who  declared  to  her,  as  he  now 
did  to  me,  that  we  ought  as  much  to  be  esteemed  man 
and  wife,  as  if  the  ceremony  had  already  passed  be- 
tween us. 

"These  remonstrances,  the  doctor  told  me,  had 
worked  no  effect  on  Mrs.  Harris,  who  still  persisted  in 
her  avowed  resolution  of  marrying  her  daughter  to 
Winckworth,  whom  the  doctor  had  likewise  attacked, 
telling  him  that  he  was  paying  his  addresses  to  another 
man's  wife ;  but  all  to  no  purpose :  the  young  gentle- 
man was  too  much  in  love  to  hearken  to  any  dissua- 
sives. 

"  We  now  entered  into  a  consultation  what  means  to 
employ.  The  doctor  earnestly  protested  against  any 
violence  to  be  offered  to  the  person  of  Winckworth, 


64  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

which,  I  believe,  I  had  rashly  threatened ;  declaring, 
that  if  I  made  any  attempt  of  that  kind,  he  would  for 
ever  abandon  my  cause.  I  made  him  a  solemn  promise 
of  forbearance.  At  last,  he  determined  to  pay  another 
visit  to  Mrs.  Harris ;  and  if  he  found  her  obdurate,  he 
said  he  thought  himself  at  liberty  to  join  us  together 
without  any  further  consent  of  the  mother ;  which  every 
parent,  he  said,  had  a  right  to  refuse,  but  not  to  retract 
when  given,  unless  the  party  himself,  by  some  conduct 
of  his,  gave  a  reason. 

"  The  doctor  having  made  his  visit  with  no  better 
success  than  before,  the  matter  now  debated  was  how 
to  get  possession  of  Amelia  by  stratagem  ;  for  she  was 
now  a  closer  prisoner  than  ever ;  was  her  mother's  bed- 
fellow by  night,  and  never  out  of  her  sight  by  day. 

"  While  we  were  deliberating  on  this  point,  a  wine- 
merchant  of  the  town  came  to  visit  the  doctor,  to  inform 
him  that  he  had  just  bottled  off"  a  hogshead  of  excellent 
old  Port,  of  which  he  offered  to  spare  him  a  hamper, 
saying,  that  he  was  that  day  to  send  in  twelve  dozens  to 
Mrs.  Harris. 

"  The  doctor  now  smiled  at  a  conceit  which  came  into 
his  head;  and,  taking  me  aside,  asked  me  if  I  had  love 
enough  for  the  young  lady  to  venture  into  the  house  in 
a  hamper.  I  joyfully  leaped  at  the  proposal,  to  which 
the  merchant,  at  the  doctor's  intercession,  consented  ; 
for  I  believe,  madam,  you  know  the  great  authority 
which  that  worthy  man  had  over  the  whole  town.  The 
doctor,  moreover,  promised  to  procure  a  license,  and  to 
perform  the  office  for  us  at  his  house,  if  I  could  find  any 
means  of  conveying  Amelia  thither. 

"  In  this  hamper  then  I  was  carried  to  the  house,  and 
deposited  in  the  entry,  where  I  had  not  lain  long,  before 
I  was  again  removed  and  packed  up  in  a  cart,  in  order 
to  be  sent  five  miles  into  the  country ;  for  I  heard  the 
orders  given  as  I  lay  in  the  entry,  and  there  I  likewise 
heard  that  Ameha  and  her  mother  were  to  follow  me 
the  next  morning. 

"  I  was  unloaded  from  my  cart,  and  set  down,  with 
the  rest  of  the  lumber,  in  a  great  hall.  Here  I  re- 
mained above  three  hours,  impatiently  waiting  for  the 
evening,  when  I  determined  to  quit  a  posture  which  was 
become  very  uneasy,  and  break  my  prison ;  but  fortune 
contrived  to  release  me  sooner,  by  the  following  means  : 
The  house  where  1  now  was  had  been  left  in  the  care 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  65 

of  one  maid-servant.  This  faithful  creature  came  into 
the  hall,  with  the  footman  who  had  driven  the  cart.  A 
scene  of  the  highest  fondness  having  passed  between 
them,  the  fellow  proposed,  and  the  maid  consented,  to 
open  the  hamper,  and  drink  a  bottle  together,  which 
they  agreed  their  mistress  would  hardly  miss  in  sucli  a 
quantity.  They  presently  began  to  execute  their  pur- 
pose. They  opened  the  hamper,  and,  to  their  great 
surprise,  discovered  the  contents. 

"  I  took  an  immediate  advantage  of  the  consternation 
which  appeared  in  the  countenances  of  both  the  servants, 
and  had  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  improve  the 
knowledge  of  those  secrets  to  which  I  was  privy.  I 
told  them  that  it  entirely  depended  on  their  behaviour 
to  me,  whether  their  mistress  should  ever  be  acquainted, 
either  with  what  they  had  done,  or  with  what  they  had 
intended  to  do ;  for,  that  if  they  would  keep  my  secret, 
I  would  reciprocally  keep  theirs.  1  then  acquainted 
them  with  my  purpose  of  lying  concealed  in  the  house, 
in  order  to  watch  an  opportunity  of  obtaining  a  private 
interview  with  Amelia. 

"  In  the  situation  in  which  these  two  delinquents 
stood,  you  may  be  assured  it  was  not  difficult  for  me  to 
seal  up  their  lips  ;  in  short,  they  agreed  to  whatever  I 
proposed.  I  lay  that  evening  in  my  dear  Amelia's  bed- 
chamber, and  was  in  the  morning  conveyed  into  an  old 
lumber-garret,  where  I  was  to  wait  till  Amelia  (whom 
the  maid  promised,  on  her  arrival,  to  inform  of  my 
place  of  concealment)  could  find  some  opportunity  of 
seeing  me." 

"  I  ask  pardon  for  interrupting  you,"  cries  Miss  Mat- 
thews ;  "  but  you  bring  to  my  remembrance  a  foolish 
story  which  I  heard  at  that  time,  though  at  a  great  dis- 
tance from  you  ;  that  an  officer  had,  in  confederacy  with 
Miss  Harris,  broken  open  her  mother's  cellar,  and  stole 
away  a  great  quantity  of  her  wine.  I  mention  it  only 
to  show  you  what  sort  of  foundations  most  stories 
have." 

Booth  told  her  he  had  heard  some  such  thing  himself, 
and  then  continued  his  story,  as  in  the  next  chapter. 
6* 


66  THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA. 


Chapter  VI. — Containing  many  surprising  adventures. 

"Here,"  continued  he,  "I  remained  the  whole  day, 
in  hopes  of  a  happiness,  the  expected  approach  of 
which  gave  me  such  a  delight,  that  I  would  not  have 
exchanged  my  poor  lodgings  for  the  finest  palace  in  the 
universe. 

"  A  httle  after  it  was  dark,  Mrs.  Harris  arrived,  to- 
gether with  Amelia  and  her  sister.  1  cannot  express 
how  much  my  heart  now  began  to  flutter ;  for,  as  my 
hopes  every  moment  increased,  strange  fears,  which  I 
had  not  felt  before,  began  now  to  intermingle  with 
them. 

*'  When  I  had  continued  full  two  hours  in  these  cir- 
cumstances, I  heard  a  woman's  step  tripping  up  stairs, 
which  I  fondly  hoped  was  my  Amelia  ;  but,  all  on  a  sud- 
den, the  door  flew  open,  and  Mrs.  Harris  herself  ap- 
peared at  it,  with  a  countenance  pale  as  death,  her 
whole  body  trembling,  I  suppose,  with  anger.  She  fell 
upon  me  in  the  most  bitter  language.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  repeat  what  she  said,  nor  indeed  can  I,  I  was  so 
shocked  and  confounded  on  this  occasion.  In  a  word, 
the  scene  ended  with  my  departing  without  seeing 
Amelia." 

"  And  pray,"  cries  Miss  Matthews,  *'  how  happened 
this  unfortunate  discovery  V 

Booth  answered,  that  the  lady,  at  supper,  ordered  a 
bottle  of  wine,  "which  neither  myself,"  said  he,  "nor 
the  servants,  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  provide.  Be- 
ing told  there  was  none  in  the  house,  though  she  had 
been  before  informed  that  the  things  came  all  safe,  she 
had  sent  for  the  maid,  who,  being  unable  to  devise  any 
excuse,  had  fallen  on  her  knees,  and  after  confessing 
her  design  of  opening  a  bottle,  which  she  imputed  to 
the  fellow,  betrayed  poor  me  to  her  mistress. 

"Well,  madam,  after  a  lecture  of  about  a  quarter  of 
an  hour's  duration  from  Mrs.  Harris,  I  suff'ered  her  to 
conduct  me  to  the  outward  gate  of  her  courtyard, 
whence  I  set  forward,  in  a  disconsolate  condition  of 
mind,  towards  my  lodgings.  1  had  five  miles  to  walk  in 
a  dark  and  rainy  night  :  but  how  can  I  mention  these 
trifling  circumstances  as  any  aggravation  of  my  disap- 
pointment V 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  67 

"  How  was  it  possible,"  cried  Miss  Matthews,  "  that 
you  could  be  got  out  of  the  house  without  seeing-  Miss 
Harris  ?"  ^ 

"I  assure  you,  madam,"  answered  Booth,  "I  have 
often  wondered  at  it  myself;  but  my  spirits  were  so 
much  sunk  at  the  sight  of  her  mother,  that  no  man  was 
ever  a  greater  coward  than  I  was  at  that  instant.  In- 
deed, 1  believe  my  tender  concern  for  the  terrors  of 
Amelia  was  the  principal  cause  of  my  submission. 
However  it  was,  I  left  the  house,  and  walked  about  a 
hundred  yards,  when,  at  the  corner  of  the  garden  wall,  a 
female  voice,  in  a  whisper,  cried  out,  'Mr.  Booth  !'  The 
person  was  extremely  near  me,  but  it  was  so  dark  I 
could  scarcely  see  her ;  nor  could  I,  in  the  confusion  I 
was  in,  immediately  recognise  the  voice.  1  answered 
in  a  line  of  Congreve's,  which  burst  from  my  lips 
spontaneously  ;  for  I  am  sure  I  had  no  intention  to  quote 
plays  at  that  time  : — 

'  Who  calls  the  wretched  thing  that  was  Alphonso?' 

Upon  which  a  woman  leaped  into  my  arms,  crying  out, 
'  Oh,  it  is  indeed  my  Alphonso,  my  only  Alphonso !' 
Oh,  Miss  Matthews  !  guess  what  I  felt  when  I  found  I 
had  my  Amelia  in  my  arms.  I  embraced  her  with  an 
ecstasy  not  to  be  described,  at  the  same  instant  pouring  a 
thousand  tendernesses  into  her  ears,  at  least,  if  I  could 
express  so  many  to  her  in  a  minute  ;  for  in  that  time  the 
alarm  began  at  the  house,  Mrs.  Harris  had  missed  her 
daughter,  and  the  court  was  presently  full  of  lights  and 
noises  of  all  kinds. 

"  I  now  lifted  Amelia  over  a  gate,  and,  jumping  after, 
we  crept  along  together  by  the  side  of  a  hedge,  a  differ- 
ent way  from  what  led  to  the  town,  as  I  imagined  that 
would  be  the  road  through  which  they  would  pursue  us. 
In  this  opinion  I  was  right,  for  we  heard  them  pass 
along  that  road ;  and  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Harris  herself, 
who  ran  with  the  rest,  notwithstanding  the  darkness 
and  the  rain :  by  these  means  we  luckily  made  our  es- 
cape ;  and,  clambering  over  a  hedge  and  a  ditch,  my 
Amelia  performing  the  part  of  a  heroine  all  the  way,  we 
at  length  arrived  at  a  little  green  lane,  where  stood  a 
vast  spreading  oak,  under  which  we  sheltered  ourselves 
from  a  violent  storm. 

"  When  this  was  over,  and  the  moon  began  to  appear, 
Amelia  declai*ed  she  knew  well  where  she  was ;  and  a 


68  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

little  farther,  striking  into  another  lane  to  the  right,  she 
said,  that  would  lead  us  to  a  house  where  we  should  be 
both  safe  and  unsuspected.  I  followed  her  directions, 
and  we  at  length  came  to  a  little  cottage  about  three 
miles  distance  from  Mrs.  Harris's  house. 

*'As  it  now  rained  very  violently,  we  entered  this 
cottage,  in  which  we  espied  a  light,  without  any  cere- 
mony :  here  we  found  an  elderly  woman  sitting  by  her- 
self at  a  little  fire,  who  had  no  sooner  viewed  us,  than 
she  instantly  sprang  from  her  seat,  and,  starting  back, 
gave  the  strongest  tokens  of  amazement ;  upon  which 
Amelia  said,  '  Be  not  surprised,  nurse,  though  you  see 
me  in  a  strange  pickle,  I  own.'  The  old  woman,  after 
having  several  times  blessed  herself,  and  expressed  the 
most  tender  concern  for  the  lady,  who  stood  dripping 
before  her,  began  to  bestir  herself  in  making  up  the  fire, 
at  the  same  time  entreating  Amelia  that  she  might  be 
permitted  to  furnish  her  with  some  clothes,  which,  she 
said,  though  not  fine,  were  clean  and  wholesome,  and 
much  dryer  than  her  own.  I  seconded  this  motion  so 
vehemently,  that  Amelia,  though  she  declared  herself 
under  no  apprehension  of  catching  cold,  (she  has,  indeed, 
the  best  constitution  in  the  world,)  at  last  consented ;  and 
I  retired  without  doors,  under  a  shed,  to  give  my  angel  an 
opportunity  of  dressing  herself  in  the  only  room  which 
the  cottage  afforded  below  stairs. 

*'  At  my  return  into  the  room,  Amelia  insisted  on  my 
exchanging  my  coat  for  one  which  belonged  to  the 
old  woman's  son."  "  I  am  very  glad,"  cried  Miss  Mat- 
thews, "  to  find  she  did  not  forget  you.  1  own  I  thought 
it  somewhat  cruel  to  turn  you  out  in  the  rain."  "  Oh, 
Miss  Matthews !"  continued  he,  taking  no  notice  of  her 
observation,  "  I  had  now  an  opportunity  of  contemplating 
the  vast  power  of  exquisite  beauty,  which  nothmg  al- 
most can  add  to  or  diminish.  Amelia,  in  the  poor  rags 
of  her  old  nurse,  looked  scarce  less  beautiful  than  I  have 
seen  her  appear  at  a  ball  or  an  assembly."  "  Well, 
well,"  cries  Miss  Matthews,  "  to  be  sure  she  did ;  but 
pray  go  on  with  your  story." 

"  The  old  woman,"  continued  he,  "  after  having 
equipped  us  as  well  as  she  could,  and  placed  our  wet 
clothes  before  the  fire,  began  to  grow  inquisitive ;  and 
after  some  ejaculations,  she  cried,  '  Oh,  my  dear  young 
madam!  my  mind  misgives  me  hugeously;  and  pray 
who  is  this  fine  young  gentleman?    Oh,  Miss  Emmy, 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  09 

Miss  Emmy,  I  am  afraid  madam  knows  nothing  of  all 
this  matter.'  '  Suppose  he  should  be  my  husband, 
nurse!'  answered  Amelia.  'Oh,  good!  and  if  he  be,' 
replies  the  nurse,  '  I  hope  he  is  some  great  gentleman 
or  other,  with  a  vast  estate,  and  a  coach  and  six  ;  for  to 
be  sure,  if  an  he  was  the  greatest  lord  in  the  land,  you 
would  deserve  it  all.'  But  why  do  I  attempt  to  mimic 
the  honest  creature  1  In  short,  she  discovered  the  great- 
est affection  for  my  Amelia;  with  which  I  was  much 
more  delighted  than  I  was  offended  at  the  suspicions 
she  showed  of  me,  or  the  many  bitter  curses  which  she 
denounced  against  me,  if  I  ever  proved  a  bad  husband  to 
so  sweet  a  young  lady. 

"  I  so  well  improved  the  hint  given  me  by  Amelia, 
that  the  old  woman  had  no  doubt  of  our  being  really 
married  ;  and  comforting  herself,  that  if  it  was  not  as 
well  as  it  might  have  been,  yet  madam  had  enough  for 
us  both,  and  that  happiness  did  not  always  depend  on 
great  riches,  she  began  to  rail  at  the  old  lady  for  having 
turned  us  out  of  doors,  which  1  scarce  told  an  untruth 
in  asserting.  And  when  Amelia  said  she  hoped  her 
nurse  would  not  betray  her,  the  good  woman  answered, 
with  much  warmth,  '  Betray  you,  my  dear  young  mad- 
am !  no,  that  I  would  not,  if  the  king  would  give  me 
all  that  he  is  worth;  no,  not  if  madam  herself  would 
give  me  the  great  house,  and  the  whole  farm  belonging 
to  it.' 

"  The  good  woman  then  went  out  and  fetched  a 
chicken  from  the  roost,  which  she  killed,  and  began  to 
pick,  without  asking  any  questions;  then  summoning 
her  son,  who  was  in  bed,  to  her  assistance,  she  began  to 
prepare  this  chicken  for  our  supper.  This  she  after- 
ward set  before  us  in  so  neat,  I  may  almost  say,  elegant 
a  manner,  that  whoever  would  have  disdained  it,  either 
does  not  know  the  sensation  of  hunger,  or  does  not  de- 
serve to  have  it  gratified.  Our  food  was  attended  with 
some  ale,  which  our  kind  hostess  said  she  intended  not 
to  have  tapped  till  Christmas  ;  '  but,'  added  she,  *  I  little 
thought  ever  to  have  the  honour  of  seeing  my  dear, 
honoured  lady  in  this  poor  place.' 

"  For  my  ov/n  part,  no  human  being  was  then  an  ob- 
ject of  envy  to  me;  and  even  Amelia  seemed  to  be 
in  pretty  good  spirits:  she  softly  whispered  to  me, 
that  she  perceived  there  might  be  happiness  in  a  cot- 
tage." 


70  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  A  cottage  !"  cries  Miss  Matthews,  sighing ;  "  a  cot- 
tage, with  the  man  one  loves,  is  a  palace." 

"  When  supper  was  ended,"  continued  Booth,  "  the 
good  woman  began  to  think  of  our  further  wants,  and 
very  earnestly  recommended  her  bed  to  us,  saying,  it 
was  a  very  neat,  though  homely  one,  and  that  she  could 
furnish  us  with  a  pair  of  clean  sheets.  She  added  some 
persuasives,  which  painted  my  angel  all  over  with  ver- 
mihon.  As  for  myself,  I  behaved  so  awkwardly  and 
foolishly,  and  so  readily  agreed  to  Amelia's  resolution 
of  sitting  up  all  night,  that,  if  it  did  not  give  the  nurse 
any  suspicion  of  our  marriage,  it  ought  to  have  inspired 
her  with  the  utmost  contempt  for  me. 

"  We  both  endeavoured  to  prevail  with  nurse  to  retire 
to  her  own  bed,  but  found  it  utterly  impossible  to  suc- 
ceed ;  she  thanked  Heaven  she  understood  breeding  bet- 
ter than  that :  and  so  well-bred  was  the  good  woman, 
that  we  could  scarce  get  her  out  of  the  room  the  whole 
night.  Luckily  for  us,  we  both  understood  French;  by 
means  of  which  we  consulted  together,  even  in  her  pres- 
ence, upon  the  measures  we  were  to  take  in  our  present 
exigency.  At  length  it  was  resolved  that  I  should  send 
a  letter  by  this  young  lad,  whom  I  have  just  before  men- 
tioned, to  our  worthy  friend  the  doctor,  desiring  his 
company  at  our  hut ;  since  we  thought  it  utterly  unsafe 
to  venture  to  the  town,  which  we  knew  would  be  in  an 
uproar  on  our  account  before  the  morning." 

Here  Booth  made  a  full  stop,  smiled,  and  then  said, 
he  was  going  to  mention  so  ridiculous  a  distress,  that 
he  could'  scarce  think  of  it  without  laughing.  What 
this  was,  the  reader  shall  know  in  the  next  chapter. 


Chapter  VII.— The  story  of  Booth  continued.— More  surprising  ad- 
ventures. 

"  From  what  trifles,  dear  Miss  Matthews,"  cried  Booth, 
"  may  some  of  our  greatest  distresses  arise  !  Do  you 
not  perceive  I  am  going  to  tell  you  we  had  neither  pen, 
ink,  nor  paper  in  our  present  exigency  "? 

"  A  verbal  message  was  now  our  only  resource  : 
however,  we  contrived  to  deliver  it  in  such  terms,  that 
neither  nurse  nor  her  son  could  possibly  conceive  any 
suspicion  from  it  of  the  present  situation  of  our  affairs. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  71 

Indeed,  Amelia  whispered  me,  I  might  safely  place  any 
degree  of  confidence  in  the  lad ;  for  he  had  been  her 
foster-brother,  and  she  had  a  great  opinion  of  his  integ- 
rity. He  was,  in  truth,  a  boy  of  very  good  natural  parts  ; 
and  Dr.  Harrison,  who  had  received  him  into  his  family, 
at  Amelia's  recommendation,  had  bred  him  up  to  write 
and  read  very  well ;  and  had  taken  some  pains  to  infuse 
into  him  the  principles  of  honesty  and  religion ;  he  was 
not,  indeed,  even  now  discharged  from  the  doctor's  ser- 
vice ;  but  had  been  at  home  with  his  mother  for  some 
time,  on  account  of  the  smallpox,  from  which  he  was 
lately  recovered. 

"I  have  said  so  much,"  continued  Booth,  "of  the 
boy's  character,  that  you  may  not  be  surprised  at  some 
stories  which  I  shall  tell  you  of  him  hereafter. 

"  I  am  going  now,  madam,  to  relate  to  you  one  of 
those  strange  accidents,  which  are  produced  by  such  a 
train  of  circumstances,  that  mere  chance  has  been 
thought  incapable  of  bringing  them  together ;  and  which 
have,  therefore,  given  birth,  in  superstitious  minds,  to 
Fortune,  and  to  several  other  imaginary  beings. 

"  We  were  now  impatiently  expecting  the  arrival  of 
the  doctor ;  our  messenger  had  been  gone  much  more 
than  a  sufficient  time,  which  to  us,  you  may  be  assured, 
appeared  not  at  all  shorter  than  it  was,  when  nurse, 
who  had  gone  out  of  doors  on  some  errand,  came  run- 
ning hastily  to  us,  crying  out, '  Oh,  my  dear  young  madam, 
her  ladyship's  coach  is  just  at  the  door  !'  Amelia  turned 
pale  as  death  at  these  words  ;  indeed,  I  feared  she  would 
have  fainted,  if  I  could  be  said  to  fear,  who  had  scarce 
any  of  my  senses  left,  and  was  in  a  condition  little  bet- 
ter than  my  angel's. 

"  While  we  were  both  in  this  dreadful  situation,  Ame- 
lia fallen  back  in  her  chair,  with  the  countenance  in 
which  ghosts  are  painted,  myself  at  her  feet,  with  a  com- 
plexion of  no  very  different  colour,  and  nurse  screaming 
out,  and  throwing  water  in  Amelia's  face,  Mrs.  Harris 
entered  the  room.  At  the  sight  of  this  scene,  she  threw 
herself  likewise  into  a  chair,  and  called  immediately  for 
a  glass  of  water,  which  Miss  Betty,  her  daughter,  sup- 
plied her  with  ;  for,  as  to  nurse,  nothing  was  capable  of 
making  any  impression  on  her,  while  she  apprehended 
her  young  mistress  to  be  in  danger. 

"  The  doctor  had  now  entered  the  room ;  and,  coming 
immediately  up  to  Amelia,  after  some  expressions  of 


72  THE   HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

surprise,  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  called  her  his  little 
sugar-plum,  and  assured  her  there  \yere  none  but  friends 
present :  he  then  led  her  tottering  across  the  room  to 
Mrs.  Harris,  Amelia  then  fell  upon  her  knees  before 
her  mother  ;  but  the  doctor  caught  her  up,  saying,  '  Use 
that  posture,  child,  only  to  the  Almighty.'  But  I  need 
not  mention  this  singularity  of  his  ^o  you,  who  know 
him  so  well,  and  must  have  heard  him  often  dispute 
against  addressing  ourselves  to  man  in  the  humblest 
posture  which  we  use  towards  the  Supreme  Being. 

"  1  will  tire  you  with  no  more  particulars ;  we  were 
soon  satisfied  that  the  doctor  had  reconciled  us  and 
our  affairs  to  Mrs.  Harris ;  and  we  now  proceeded  di- 
rectly to  church,  the  doctor  having  provided  a  license 
for  us.*' 

"  But  where  is  the  strange  accident  V  cries  Miss  Mat- 
thews :  "  sure  you  have  raised  more  curiosity  than  you 
have  satisfied." 

"  Indeed,  madam,"  answered  he  "  your  reproof  is  just : 
I  had  like  to  have  forgotten  it ;  but  you  cannot  wonder 
at  me,  when  you  reflect  on  that  interesting  part  of  my 
story  which  I  am  now  relating.  But  before  1  mention 
this  accident,  I  must  tell  you  what  happened  after  Ame- 
ha's  escape  from  her  mother's  house.  Mrs.  Harris  at 
first  ran  out  into  the  lane  among  her  servants,  and  pur- 
sued us  (so  she  imagined)  along  the  road  leading  to  the 
to\Mi ;  but  that  being  very  dirty,  and  a  violent  storm  of 
rain  coming  on,  she  took  shelter  in  an  alehouse,  about 
half  a  mile  from  her  own  house,  whither  she  sent  for 
her  coach :  she  then  drove,  together  with  her  daughter, 
to  town,  where,  soon  after  her  arrival,  she  sent  for  the 
doctor,  her  usual  priv}'-  counsellor  in  all  her  affairs. 
They  sat  up  all  night  together,  the  doctor  endeavouring, 
fcy  arguments  and  persuasions,  to  bring  Mrs.  Harris  to 
reason,  but  all  to  no  purpose ;  though,  as  he  has  in- 
formed me,  Miss  Betty  seconded  him  with  the  warmest 
entreaties." 

Here  Miss  Matthews  laughed  ;  of  which  Booth  begged 
to  know  the  reason  :  she,  at  last,  after  many  apologies, 
said,  it  was  the  first  good  thing  she  ever  heard  of  ^Nliss 
Betty ;  "  nay,"  said  she,  "  and  asking  your  pardon  for 
my  opinion  of  your  sister,  since  you  will  have  it,  I  al- 
ways conceived  her  to  be  the  deepest  of  hypocrites." 

Booth  fetched  a  sigh,  and  said,  he  was  afraid  she  had 


THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA.  73 

not  always  acted  so  kindly ;  and  then,  after  a  little  hesi- 
tation, proceeded  : — 

"  You  will  be  pleased,  madam,  to  remember,  the  lad 
was  sent  with  a  verbal  message  to  the  doctor ;  which 
message  was  no  more  than  to  acquaint  him  where  we 
were,  and  to  desire  the  favour  of  his  company,  or  that 
he  would  send  a  coach  to  bring  us  to  whatever  place  he 
would  please  to  meet  us  at.  This  message  was  to  be 
dehvered  to  the  doctor  himself;  and  the  messenger  was 
ordered,  if  he  found  him  not  at  home,  to  go  to  him 
wherever  he  was.  He  fulfilled  his  orders,  and  told  it  to 
the  doctor  in  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Harris." 

"  Oh,  the  idiot !"  cries  Miss  Matthews.  "  Not  at  all," 
answered  Booth  :  "  he  is  a  very  sensible  fellow,  as  you 
will,  perhaps,  say  hereafter.  He  had  not  the  least  reason 
to  suspect  that  any  secrecy  was  necessary  ;  for  we  took 
the  utmost  care  that  he  should  not  suspect  it.  Well, 
madam,  this  accident,  which  appeared  so  unfortunate, 
turned  in  the  highest  degree  to  our  advantage.  Mrs. 
Harris  had  no  sooner  heard  the  message  delivered,  than 
she  fell  into  the  most  violent  passion  imaginable,  and 
accused  the  doctor  of  being  in  the  plot,  and  of  having 
confederated  with  me  in  the  design  of  carrying  off  her 
daughter. 

"  The  doctor,  who  had  hitherto  used  only  soothing 
methods,  now  talked  in  a  different  strain :  he  confessed 
the  accusation,  and  justified  his  conduct.  He  said  he 
was  no  meddler  in  the  family  affairs  of  others,  nor  should 
he  have  concerned  himself  with  hers  but  at  her  own  re- 
quest; but  that  since  Mrs.  Harris  herself  had  made  him 
an  agent  in  this  matter,  he  would  take  care  to  acquit 
himself  with  honour,  and  above  all  things  to  preserve 
a  young  lady,  for  whom  he  had  the  highest  esteem ;  '  for 
she  is,'  cries  he  (and,  by  Heavens,  he  said  true) '  the  most 
worthy,  generous,  and  noble  of  all  human  beings.  You 
have  yourself,  madam,'  said  he, '  consented  to  the  match ; 
I  have  at  your  request  made  the  match ;'  and  then  he 
added  some  particulars  relating  to  his  opinion  of  me, 
which  my  modesty  forbids  me  to  repeat."  "Nay, 
but,"  cries  Miss  Matthews,  "  I  insist  on  your  conquest 
of  that  modesty  for  once.  We  women  do  not  love  to 
hear  one  another's  praises  ;  and  I  will  be  made  amends 
by  hearing  the  praises  of  a  man ;  and  of  a  man  whom, 
perhaps,"  added  she  with  a  leer,  "  I  shall  not  think 
much  the  better  of  upon  that  account."  "  In  obedience 
7  D 


74  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

to  your  commands  then,  madam,"  continued  he,  "thg 
doctor  was  so  kind  to  say,  he  had  inquired  into  my 
character,  and  had  found  that  I  had  been  a  dutiful  son  and 
an  affectionate  brother  j  relations,-  said  he,  in  which 
whoever  discharges  his  duty  well,  gives  us  a  well- 
grounded  hope  that  he  will  behave  as  properly  in  all  the 
rest.  He  concluded  with  saying  that  Amelia's  happiness, 
her  heart,  nay,  her  very  reputation,  were  all  concerned 
m  this  matter,  to  which  as  he  had  been  made  instru- 
mental, he  was  resolved  to  carry  her  through  it;  and 
then,  taking  the  license  from  his  pocket,  declared  to 
Mrs.  Harris,  that  he  would  go  that  instant  and  marry 
her  daughter  wherever  he  found  her.  This  speech,  the 
doctor's  voice,  his  look,  and  his  behaviour,  all  which 
are  sufficiently  calculated  to  inspire  awe,  and  even  ter- 
ror when  he  pleases,  frightened  poor  Mrs.  Harris,  and 
wrought  a  more  sensible  effect  than  it  was  in  his  power 
to  produce  by  all  his  arguments  and  entreaties ;  and  I 
have  already  related  what  followed. 

"  Thus  the  strange  accident  of  our  wanting  pen,  ink, 
and  paper,  and  our  not  trusting  the  boy  with  our  secret, 
occasioned  the  discovery  to  Mrs.  Harris  ;  that  discovery 
put  the  doctor  upon  his  metal ;  and  produced  that  blessed 
event  which  I  have  recounted  to  you,  and  which,  as  my 
mother  has  since  confessed,  nothing  but  the  spirit  which 
he  had  exerted  after  the  discovery,  could  have  brought 
about. 

"  Well,  madam,  you  now  see  me  married  to  Amelia  ; 
in  which  situation  you  will,  perhaps,  think  my  happiness 
incapable  of  addition.  Perhaps  it  was  so ;  and  yet  I 
can  with  truth  say,  that  the  love  which  I  then  bore 
Amelia  was  not  comparable  to  what  I  bear  her  now." 
"  Happy  Amelia  !"  cried  Miss  Matthews  :  "  if  all  men 
were  like  you,  all  women  would  be  blessed ;  nay,  the 
whole  world  would  be  so  in  a  great  measure  :  for,  upon 
my  soul,  I  believe  that  from  the  inconstancy  of  your  sex 
to  ours  proceed  half  the  miseries  of  mankind." 

That  we  may  give  the  reader  leisure  to  consider  well 
the  foregoing  sentiment,  we  will  here  put  an  end  to  this 
chapter. 


THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA.  75 


Chapter  VIII.— In  which  our  readers  will  probably  be  divided  in 
their  opinion  of  Mr.  Booth's  conduct. 

Booth  proceeded  as  follows  : — 

"  The  first  month  of  our  marriage  produced  nothing 
remarkable  enough  to  mention.  1  am  sure  I  need  not 
tell  Miss  Matthews  that  I  found  in  my  Amelia  every 
perfection  of  human  nature.  Mrs.  Harris  at  first  gave 
us  some  little  uneasiness  :  she  had  rather  yielded  to  the 
doctor  than  given  a  willing  consent  to  the  match :  how- 
ever, by  degrees,  she  became  more  and  more  satisfied, 
and  at  last  seemed  perfectly  reconciled.  This  we 
ascribed  a  good  deal  to  the  kind  offices  of  Miss  Betty, 
who  had  always  appeared  to  be  my  friend.  She  had 
been  greatly  assisting  to  Amelia  in  making  her  escape, 
which  I  had  no  opportunity  of  mentioning  to  you  before  ; 
and  in  all  thinars  behaved  so  well,  outwardly  at  least,  to 
myself  as  well  as  to  her  sister,  that  we  regarded  her  as 
our  sincerest  friend. 

*'  About  half  a  year  after  our  marriage,  two  additional 
companies  were  added  to  our  regiment,  in  one  of  which 
I  was  preferred  to  the  command  of  a  lieutenant.  Upon 
this  occasion,  Miss  Betty  gave  the  first  intimation  of  a 
disposition  which  we  have  since  too  severely  experi- 
enced." 

*'  Your  servant,  sir,^'  says  Miss  Matthews :  "  then 
I  find  I  was  not  mistaken  in  my  opinion  of  the  lady. 
No,  no,  show  me  any  goodness  in  a  censorious  prude, 
and—" 

As  Miss  Matthews  hesitated  for  a  smile  or  an  execra- 
tion, Booth  proceeded  :  "  You  will  please  to  remember, 
madam,  there  was  formerly  an  agreement  between  my- 
self and  Mrs.  Harris,  that  I  should  settle  all  my  Amelia's 
fortune  on  her,  except  a  certain  sum,  which  was  to  be 
laid  out  in  my  advancement  in  the  army ;  but  as  our 
marriage  \vas  carried  on  in  the  manner  you  have  heard, 
no  such  agreement  was  ever  executed :  and  since  I  was 
become  Amelia's  husband,  not  a  word  of  this  matter  was 
ever  mentioned  by  the  old  lady ;  and  as  for  myself,  I 
declare  I  had  not  yet  awakened  from  the  delicious  dream 
of  bliss  in  which  the  possession  of  Amelia  had  lulled 
me."  Here  Miss  Matthews  sighed,  and  cast  the  ten- 
derest  of  looks  on  Booth,  who  thus  continued  his  story  :— 
D2 


76  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

*'  Soon  after  my  promotion,  Mrs.  Harris  one  morning 
took  an  occasion  to  speak  to  me  on  this  affair.  She 
said,  that  as  I  had  been  promoted  gratis  to  a  lieutenancy, 
she  would  assist  me  with  money  to  carry  me  yet  a  step 
higher;  and  if  more  was  required  than  was  formerly 
mentioned,  it  should  not  be  wanting,  since  she  was  so 
perfectly  satisfied  with  my  behaviour  to  her  daughter ; 
adding,  that  she  hoped  I  had  still  the  same  inclination 
to  settle  on  my  wife  the  remainder  of  her  fortune. 

"  1  answered  with  very  warm  acknowledgments  of 
my  mother's  goodness,  and  declared,  if  I  had  the  world, 
I  was  ready  to  lay  it  at  my  Amelia's  feet.  And  so. 
Heaven  knows,  I  would  ten  thousand  worlds. 

"  Mrs.  Harris  seemed  pleased  with  the  warmth  of  my 
sentiments,  and  said  she  would  immediately  send  to  her 
lawyer,  and  give  him  the  necessary  orders  ;  and  thus 
ended  our  conversation  on  this  subject. 

"  From  this  time  there  was  a  very  visible  alteration 
in  Miss  Betty's  behaviour.  She  grew  reserved  to  her 
sister  as  well  as  to  me  :  she  was  fretful  and  captious 
on  the  slightest  occasion;  nay,  she  affected  much  to 
talk  on  the  ill  consequences  of  an  imprudent  marriage, 
especially  before  her  mother ;  and,  if  ever  any  little 
tenderness  or  endearments  escaped  me  in  public  towards 
Amelia,  she  never  failed  to  make  some  malicious  re- 
mark on  the  short  duration  of  violent  passions ;  and, 
when  I  have  expressed  a  fond  sentiment  for  my  wife, 
her  sister  would  kindly  wish  she  might  hear  as  much 
seven  years  hence. 

"  All  these  matters  have  been  since  suggested  to  us 
by  reflection;  for,  while  they  actually  passed,  both 
Amelia  and  myself  had  our  thoughts  too  happily  en- 
gaged to  take  notice  of  what  discovered  itself  in  the 
mind  of  any  other  person. 

"  Unfortunately  for  us,  I\Irs.  Harris's  lawyer  hap- 
pened at  this  time  to  be  in  London,  where  business 
detained  him  upwards  of  a  month  ;  and  as  Mrs.  Harris 
would  on  no  occasion  employ  any  other,  our  affair  was 
under  an  entire  suspension  till  his  return. 

*'  Amelia,  who  was  now  big  with  child,  had  often  ex- 
pressed the  deepest  concern  at  her  apprehensions  of  my 
being  some  time  commanded  abroad  ;  a  circumstance 
which,  she  declared,  if  it  should  ever  happen  to  her, 
even  though  she  should  not  then  be  in  the  same  situa- 
tion as  at  present,  would  infallibly  break  her  heart. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  77 

These  remonstrances  were  made  with  such  tenderness, 
and  so  much  affected  me,  that,  to  avoid  any  probabihty 
of  such  an  event,  I  endeavoured  to  get  an  exchange 
into  the  horse-guards,  a  body  of  troops  which  very 
rarely  goes  abroad,  unless  where  the  king  himself  com- 
mands in  person.  I  soon  found  an  officer  for  my  pur- 
pose ;  the  terms  were  agreed  on  ;  and  Mrs.  Harris  had 
ordered  the  money,  which  I  was  to  pay,  to  be  ready, 
notwithstanding  the  opposition  made  by  Miss  Betty,  who 
openly  dissuaded  her  mother  from  it;  alleging  that  that 
exchange  was  highly  to  my  disadvantage  ;  that  I  could 
never  hope  to  rise  in  the  army  after  it ;  not  forgetting, 
at  the  same  time,  some  insinuations  very  prejudicial  to 
my  reputation  as  a  soldier. 

"  When  everything  was  agreed  on,  and  the  two  com- 
missions were  actually  made  out,  but  not  signed  by  the 
king,  one  day,  at  my  return  from  hunting,  Amelia  flew 
to  me,  and,  eagerly  embracing  me,  cried  out,  '  Oh,  Billy ! 
I  have  news  for  you  which  delights  my  soul.  Nothing, 
sure,  was  ever  so  fortunate  as  the  exchange  you  have 
made  :  the  regiment  you  was  formerly  in  is  ordered  for 
Gibraltar.' 

*'  I  received  this  news  with  far  less  transport  than  it 
was  delivered.  I  answered,  coldly,  '  Since  the  case 
was  so,  I  heartily  hoped  the  commissions  might  be 
both  signed.'  *  What  do  you  say?'  replied  Amelia, 
eagerly  ;  '  sure  you  told  me  everything  was  entirely  set- 
tled. That  look  of  yours  frightens  me  to  death.'  But 
1  am  running  into  too  minute  particulars ;  in  short,  I 
received  a  letter  by  that  very  post,  from  the  officer 
with  whom  1  had  exchanged,  insisting,  that  though  his 
majesty  had  not  signed  the  commissions,  that  still  the 
bargain  was  valid  ;  partly  urging  it  as  a  right,  and  partly 
desiring  it  as  a  favour,  that  he  might  go  to  Gibraltar  in 
my  room. 

"  This  letter  convinced  me  in  every  point.  I  was 
now  informed  that  the  commissions  were  not  signed, 
and,  consequently,  that  the  exchange  was  not  com- 
pleted :  of  consequence,  the  other  could  have  no  right 
to  insist  on  going;  and,  as  for  granting  him  such  a 
favour,  I  too  clearly  saw  I  must  do  it  at  the  expense 
of  my  honour.  I  was  now  reduced  to  a  dilemma,  the 
most  dreadful  which  I  think  any  man  can  experience ; 
in  which,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  own,  I  found  love  was 
not  so  overmatched  by  honour  as  he  ought  to  have 
7* 


78  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

been.  The  thoughts  of  leaving  Amelia  in  her  present 
condition,  to  misery,  perhaps  to  death  or  madness,  were 
insupportable  ;  nor  could  any  other  consideration  but 
that  which  now  tormented  me  on  the  other  side,  have 
combated  them  a  moment." 

"  No  woman  upon  earth,"  cries  Miss  Matthews,  "  can 
despise  want  of  spirit  in  a  man  more  than  myself;  and 
yet,  I  cannot  help  thinking  you  was  rather  too  nice  on 
this  occasion." 

"You  will  allow,  madam,"  answ^ered  Booth,  "that 
whoever  offends  against  the  laws  of  honour,  in  the  least 
instance,  is  treated  as  the  highest  dehnquent.  Here  is 
no  excuse,  no  pardon ;  and  he  does  nothing  who  leaves 
anything  undone.  But,  if  the  conflict  was  so  terrible 
with  myself  alone,  what  was  my  situation  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Amelia  1  How  could  I  support  her  sighs,  her 
tears,  her  agonies,  her  despair  ]  Could  I  bear  to  think 
myself  the  cruel  cause  of  her  suflferings  1  for  so  I  was. 
Could  I  endure  the  thought  of  having  it  in  my  power  to 
give  her  instant  relief  (for  so  it  was)  and  refuse  it  her  ? 

"  Miss  Betty  was  now  again  become  my  friend.  vShe 
had  scarce  been  civil  to  me  for  a  fortnight  last  past,  yet 
now  she  commended  me  to  the  skies,  and  as  severely 
blamed  her  sister,  whom  she  arraigned  of  the  most  con- 
temptible weakness,  in  preferring  my  safety  to  my 
honour.  She  said  many  ill-natured  things  on  the  oc- 
casion, which  I  shall  not  now  repeat. 

"  In  the  midst  of  this  hurricane,  the  good  doctor  came 
to  dine  with  Mrs.  Harris,  and  at  my  desire  delivered  his 
opinion  on  the  matter." 

Here  Mr.  Booth  was  interrupted  in  his  narrative,  by 
the  arrival  of  a  person,  whom  we  shall  introduce  in  the 
next  chapter. 


Chapter  IX. — Containing  a  scene  of  a  different  kind  from  any  of 
the  preceding. 

The  gentleman  who  now  arrived  was  the  keeper,  or, 
if  you  please,  (for  so  he  was  pleased  to  call  himself,) 
the  governor  of  the  prison. 

He  used  so  little  ceremony  at  his  approach,  that  the 
bolt,  which  was  very  slight  on  the  inside,  gave  way,  and 
the  door  immediately  flew  open.     He  had  no  sooner 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  79 

entered  the  room,  than  he  acquainted  Miss  Matthews 
that  he  had  brought  her  very  good  news,  for  which  he 
demanded  a  bottle  of  wine  as  his  due. 

This  demand  being  complied  with,  he  acquainted 
Miss  Matthews  that  the  wounded  gentleman  was  not 
dead,  nor  was  his  wound  thought  ^o  be  mortal  ;  that 
loss  of  blood,  and,  perhaps,  his  fright,  had  occasioned 
his  fainting  away;  "but  I  believe,  madam,"  said  he, 
"  if  you  take  the  proper  measures,  you  may  be  bailed 
to-morrow.  I  expect  the  lawyer  here  this  evening; 
and  if  you  put  the  business  into  his  hands,  I  warrant 
it  will  be  done.  Money,  to  be  sure,  must  be  parted 
with,  that's  to  be  sure.  People,  to  be  sure,  will  expect 
to  touch  a  little  in  such  cases.  For  my  own  part,  1 
never  desire  to  keep  a  prisoner  longer  than  the  law  al- 
lows, not  I :  I  always  inform  them  they  can  be  bailed 
as  soon  as  I  know  it.  1  never  make  any  bargain,  not 
I ;  I  always  love  to  leave  those  things  to  the  gentlemen 
and  ladies  themselves.  I  never  suspect  gentlemen  and 
ladies  of  wanting  generosity." 

Miss  Matthews  made  a  very  slight  answer  to  all  these 
friendly  professions.  She  said  she  had  done  nothing 
she  repented  of,  and  was  indifferent  as  to  the  event. 
"All  I  can  say,"  cries  she  "is,  that  if  the  wretch  is 
alive,  there  is  no  greater  villain  in  life  than  himself :" 
and,  instead  of  mentioning  anything  of  the  bail,  she 
begged  the  keeper  to  leave  her  again  alone  with  Mr. 
Booth.  The  keeper  replied,  "  Nay,  madam,  perhaps  it 
may  be  better  to  stay  a  little  longer  here,  if  you  have 
not  bail  ready,  than  to  buy  them  too  dear.  Besides,  a 
day  or  two  hence,  when  the  gentleman  is  past  all  danger 
of  recovery,  to  be  sure  some  folks,  that  would  expect  an 
extraordinary  fee  now,  cannot  expect  to  touch  anything ; 
and,  to  be  sure,  you  shall  want  nothing  here.  The  best 
of  all  things  are  to  be  had  here  for  money,  both  eatable 
and  drinkable  ;  though  I  say  it,  I  sha'n't  turn  my  back 
to  any  of  the  taverns  for  either  eatables  or  wine.  The 
captain  there  need  not  have  been  so  shy  of  owning  him- 
self when  he  first  came  in :  we  have  had  captains  and 
other  great  gentlemen  here  before  now  ;  and  no  shame 
to  them,  though  I  say  it.  Many  a  great  gentleman  is 
sometimes  found  in  places  that  don't  become  them  half 
so  well,  let  me  tell  them  that,  Captain  Booth,  let  me 
tell  them  that." 

*'  I   see,  sir,"  answered  Booth,  a  little  discomposed 


80  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  that  you  are  acquainted  with  my  title  as  well  as  my 
name." 

"  Ay,  sir,"  cries  the  keeper,  "  and  I  honour  you  the 
more  for  it.  1  love  the  gentlemen  of  the  army.  I  was 
in  the  army  myself  formerly,  in  the  Lord  of  Oxford's 
horse.  It  is  true  I  rode  private ;  but  1  had  money 
enough  to  have  bought  in  quartermaster,  when  1  took 
it  into  my  head  to  marry ;  and  my  wife  she  did  not  like 
that  I  should  continue  a  soldier;  she  was  all  for  a  pri- 
vate life;  and  so  I  came  to  this  business." 

"Upon  my  word,  sir,"  answered  Booth,  "  you  con- 
sulted your  wife's  inclinations  very  notably  :  but,  pray, 
will  you  satisfy  my  curiosity  in  telling  me  how  you 
became  acquainted  that  I  was  in  the  army  ;  for  my 
dress,  I  think,  could  not  betray  me." 

"  Betray  ]"  replied  tiie  keeper ;  "  there  is  no  betraying 
here,  1  hope  :  1  am  not  a  person  to  betray  people.  But 
you  are  so  shy  and  peery,  you  would  aimo.st  make  one 
suspect  there  was  more  in  the  matter;  and,  if  there  be, 
I  promise  you,  you  need  not  be  afraid  of  telling  it  me. 
You  will  excuse  me  giving  you  a  hint;  but  the  sooner 
the  better,  that's  all :  others  may  be  beforehand  with 
you,  and  first  come  first  served  on  these  occasions, 
that's  all.  Informers  are  odious,  there's  no  doubt  of 
that,  and  no  one  would  care  to  be  an  informer  if  he 
could  help  it,  because  of  the  ill  usage  they  always  re- 
ceive from  the  mob  ;  yet  it  is  dangerous  to  trust  too 
much:  and  when  safety  and  a  good  part  of  the  reward 
too  are  on  one  side,  and  the  gallows  on  the  other — I 
know  which  a  wise  man  would  choose." 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  all  this  V  cries 
Booth.  "  No  offence,  1  hope,"  answered  the  keeper  :  "I 
speak  for  your  good ;  and  if  you  have  been  upon  the 
snaffling  lay — you  understand  me,  I  am  sure." — "  Not 
1,"  answered  Booth,  "  upon  my  honour." 

"  Nay,  nay,"  replied  the  keeper,  with  a  contemptuous 
sneer,  "  if  you  are  so  peery  as  that  comes  to,  you  must 
take  the  consequences  ;  but  for  my  part,  1  know  I 
would  not  trust  ii(;biijson  with  twopence  untold." — 
"  What  do  you  mean  V  cries  Booth :  "  who  is  liobinson  V 

"  And  you  don't  know  Robinson  !"  answered  the  keeper 
with  great  emotion;  to  which  Booth  replying  in  the 
negative,  the  keeper,  after  some  tokens  of  amazement, 
cried  out,  "  Well,  captain,  I  must  say  you  are  the  best 
at  it,  of  all  the  gentlemen  I  ever  saw.     However,  I  will 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  81 

tell  you  this ;  the  lawyer  and  Mr.  Robinson  have  been 
laying  their  heads  together  about  you  above  half  an 
hour  this  afternoon.  I  overheard  them  mention  Captain 
Booth  several  times ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  would  not 
answer  that  Mr.  Murphy  is  not  now  gone  about  the  busi- 
ness ;  but,  if  you  will  impeach  any  to  me  of  the  road, 
or  anything  else,  I  will  step  away  to  his  worship 
Thrasher  this  instant,  and  I  am  sure  I  have  interest 
enough  with  him  to  get  you  admitted  an  evidence." 

"  And  so,"  cries  Booth,  "  you  really  take  me  for  a 
highwayman  V  *'  No  oifence,  captain,  I  hope,"  said  the 
keeper:  "  as  times  go,  there  are  many  worse  men  in  the 
world  than  those.  Gentlemen  may  be  driven  to  dis- 
tress ;  and  when  they  are,  I  know  no  more  genteeler 
way  than  the  road :  it  has  been  many  a  brave  man's 
case,  to  my  knowledge,  and  men  of  as  much  honour  too 
as  any  in  the  world."  "  Well,  sir,"  said  Booth,  "  1  do 
assure  you  I  am  not  that  gentleman  of  honour  you 
imagine  me." 

Miss  Matthews,  who  had  long  understood  the  keeper 
no  better  than  Mr.  Booth,  no  sooner  heard  his  meaning 
explained,  than  she  was  fired  with  greater  indignation 
than  the  gentleman  had  expressed.  "  How  dare  you, 
sir,"  said  she  to  the  keeper,  "  insult  a  man  of  fashion, 
and  who  has  had  the  honour  to  bear  his  majesty's  com- 
mission in  the  army,  as  you  yourself  own  you  know  ? 
If  his  misfortunes  have  sent  him  hither,  sure  we  have 
no  laws  that  will  protect  such  a  fellow  as  you  in  insult- 
ing him  !"  "  Fellow  !"  muttered  the  keeper  :  "  I  would 
not  advise  you  madam,  to  use  such  language  to  me." 
"  Do  you  dare  threaten  me  V  replied  Miss  Matthews  in  a 
rage.  "  Venture  in  the  least  instance  to  exceed  your 
authority  with  regard  to  me,  and  I  will  prosecute  you 
with  the  utmost  vengeance." 

A  scene  of  very  high  altercation  now  ensued,  till 
Booth  interposed,  and  quieted  the  keeper,  who  was, 
perhaps,  enough  inclined  to  an  accommodation  ;  for, 
in  truth,  he  waged  unequal  war.  He  was  besides  un- 
willing to  incense  Miss  Matthews,  whom  he  expected 
to  be  bailed  out  the  next  day,  and  who  had  more  money 
left  than  he  intended  she  should  carry  out  of  the  prison 
with  her ;  and,  as  for  any  violent  or  unjustifiable  methods, 
the  lady  had  discovered  much  too  great  a  spirit  to  be  in 
danger  of  them.  The  governor,  therefore,  in  a  very 
gentle  tone,  declared,  that  if  he  had  given  any  oifence 
D  3 


82  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

to  the  gentleman,  he  heartily  asked  his  pardon ;  that  if 
he  had  known  him  to  be  really  a  captain,  he  should  not 
have  entertained  any  such  suspicions ;  but  the  captain 
was  a  very  common  title  in  that  place,  and  belong-ed  to 
several  gentleman  that  had  never  been  in  the  army,  or, 
at  most,  had  rid  private  like  himself.  "  To  be  sure,  cap- 
tain," said  he,  "  as  you  yourself  own,  your  dress  is  not 
very  military  ;''  (for  he  had  on  a  plain  fustian  suit ;)  "  and, 
besides,  as  the  lawyer  says,  nosatur  a  sosu-  is  a  very 
good  rule  :  and  I  don't  believe  there  is  a  greater  rascal 
upon  earth  than  that  same  Robinson  that  1  was  talking 
of.  Nay,  1  assure  you,  I  wish  there  maj'  be  no  mischief 
hatching  against  you:  but  if  there  is,  I  will  do  all  I  can 
with  the  lawyer  to  prevent  it.  To  be  sure,  Mr.  Murphy 
is  one  of  the  cleverest  men  in  the  world  at  the  law  ; 
that  even  his  enemies  must  own ;  and  as  I  recommend 
him  to  all  the  business  1  can,  (and  it  is  not  a  little,  to  be 
sure,  that  arises  in  this  place,)  why  one  good  turn  de- 
serves another ;  and  I  may  expect  that  he  will  not  be 
concerned  in  any  plot  to  ruin  any  friend  of  mine,  at 
least,  when  1  desire  him  not.  1  am  sure  he  could  not 
be  an  honest  man  if  he  would." 

Booth  was  then  satisfied  that  Mr.  Robinson,  whom 
he  did  not  yet  know  by  name,  was  the  gamester  who 
had  won  his  money  at  play.  And  now.  Miss  Matthews, 
who  had  very  impatiently  borne  this  long  interruption, 
prevailed  on  the  keeper  to  withdraw.  As  soon  as  he 
was  gone,  Mr.  Booth  began  to  felicitate  her  upon  the 
news  of  the  wounded  gentleman  being  in  a  fair  likeli- 
hood of  recovery.  To  which,  after  a  short  silence,  she 
answered,  •'  There  is  something,  perhaps,  which  you 
will  not  easily  guess,  that  makes  your  congratulation 
more  agreeable  to  me  than  the  first  account  1  heard  of 
the  villain's  having  escaped  the  fate  he  deserves  ;  for,  I 
do  assure  you,  at  first,  it  did  not  make  me  amends  for 
the  interruption  of  my  curiosity.  Now  1  hope  we 
shall  be  disturbed  no  more  till  you  have  finished  your 
whole  story.  You  left  off,  I  think,  somewhere  in  the 
struggle  about  leaving  Amelia,  the  happy  Amelia." 
"  And  can  you  call  her  happy  at  such  a  period  V  cries 
Booth.  "  Happy,  ay,  happv,  in  any  situation,"  answered 
Miss  Matthews,  "  with  such  a  husband.  I,  at  least,  may 
well  think  so,  who  have  experienced  the  very  reverse 
of  her  fortune ;  but  I  was  not  born  to  be  happy.  I 
may  say,  with  the  poet — 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  83 

'  The  blackest  ink  of  fate  was  sure  my  lot ; 
And  when  fate  wrote  my  name,  it  made  a  blot.'  " 

"  Nay,  nay,  dear  Miss  Matthews,"  answered  Booth, 
"  you  must  and  shall  banish  such  gloomy  thoughts. 
Fate  has,  I  hope,  many  happy  days  in  store  for  you." 
"  Do  you  believe  it,  Mr.  Booth  V  replied  she  :  "  indeed 
you  know  the  contrary.  You  must  know — for  you  can't 
have  forgot.  No  Amelia  in  the  world  can  have  quite  ob- 
literated— forgetfulness  is  not  in  our  own  power.  If  it 
was,  indeed,  I  have  reason  to  think — But  I  know  not 
what  I  am  saying.     Pray  do  proceed  in  that  story." 

Booth  so  immediately  complied  with  this  request, 
that  it  is  possible  he  was  pleased  with  it.  To  say  the 
truth,  if  all  which  unwittingly  dropped  from  JMiss  Mat- 
thews was  put  together,  some  conclusions  might,  it 
seems,  be  drawn  from  the  whole,  which  could  not  convey 
a  very  agreeable  idea  to  a  constant  husband.  Booth, 
therefore,  proceeded  to  relate  what  is  written  in  the 
third  book  of  this  history. 


BOOK  III. 

Chapter  I. — In  which  Mr.  Booth  resumes  his  story. 

"  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  madam,"  continued  Booth,  "  I 
was  just  going  to  acquaint  you  with  the  doctor's  opinion, 
when  we  were  interrupted  by  the  keeper. 

"  The  doctor,  having  heard  counsel  on  both  sides,  that 
is  to  say,  Mrs.  Harris  for  my  staying,  and  Miss  Betty  for 
my  going,  at  last  dehvered  his  own  sentiments.  As  for 
Amelia,  she  sat  silent,  drowned  in  her  tears  ;  nor  was  I 
myself  in  a  much  better  situation. 

"  '  As  the  commissions  are  not  signed,'  said  the  doctor, 
*  I  think  you  may  be  said  to  remain  in  your  former  regi- 
ment :  and  therefore,  I  think  you  ought  to  go  on  this 
expedition ;  your  duty  to  your  king  and  country,  whose 
bread  you  have  eaten,  requires  it  ;  and  this  is  a  duty  of 
too  high  a  nature  to  admit  the  least  deficiency :  regard 
to  your  character  likewise  requires  you  to  go  ;  for  the 
world,  which  might  justly  blame  your  staying  at  home, 
if  the  case  was  even  fairly  stated,  will  not  deal  so  hon- 


84  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

estly  by  you  :  you  must  expect  to  have  every  circum- 
stance against  you  heightened,  and  most  of  what  makes 
for  your  defence  omitted  ;  and  thus  you  will  be  stigma- 
tized as  a  coward,  without  any  palliation.  As  the  ma- 
licious disposition  of  mankind  is  too  well  known,  and 
the  cruel  pleasure  which  they  take  in  destroying  the 
reputations  of  others,  the  use  we  are  to  make  of  this 
knowledge  is  to  afford  no  handle  to  reproach  :  for,  bad 
as  the  world  is,  it  seldom  falls  on  any  man  who  has  not 
given  some  slight  cause  for  censure,  though  this,  per- 
haps, is  often  aggravated  ten  thousand  fold ;  and,  when 
we  blame  the  malice  of  the  aggravation,  we  ought  not 
to  forget  our  own  imprudence  in  giving  the  occasion. 
Remember,  my  boy,  your  honour  is  at  stake  ;  and  you 
know  how  nice  the  honour  of  a  soldier  is  in  these  cases. 
This  is  a  treasure,  which  he  must  be  your  enemy  indeed 
who  would  attempt  to  rob  you  of;  therefore,  you  ought 
to  consider  every  one  as  your  enemy,  who,  by  desiring 
you  to  stay,  would  rob  you  of  your  honour.' 

" '  Do  you  hear  that,  sister  V  cries  Miss  Betty.  '  Yes, 
T  do  hear  it,'  answered  Amelia,  with  more  spirit  than 
I  ever  saw  her  exert  before ;  '  and  would  preserve  his 
honour  at  the  expense  of  my  life.  I  will  preserve  it  if 
it  should  be  at  that  expense ;  and  since  it  is  Dr.  Harri- 
son's opinion  that  he  ought  to  go,  I  give  my  consent. 
Go,  my  dear  husband,'  cried  she,  falling  upon  her 
knees :  '  may  every  angel  of  heaven  guard  and  pre- 
serve you  !'  I  cannot  repeat  her  words  without  being 
affected,"  said  he,  wiping  his  eyes  :  "  the  excellence  of 
that  woman,  no  words  can  paint.  Miss  Matthews,  she 
has  every  perfection  in  human  nature. 

"  I  will  not  tire  you  with  the  repetition  of  any  more 
that  passed  on  that  occasion,  nor  with  the  quarrel  that 
ensued  between  Mrs.  Harris  and  the  doctor ;  for  the 
old  lady  could  not  submit  to  my  leaving  her  daughter 
in  her  present  condition.  She  fell  severely  on  the 
army,  and  cursed  the  day  in  which  her  daughter  was 
married  to  a  soldier,  not  sparing  the  doctor  for  having 
had  some  share  in  the  match.  I  will  omit,  likewise,  the 
tender  scene  which  passed  between  Amelia  and  myself 
previous  to  my  departure." 

"  Indeed,  1  beg  you  would  not,"  cries  Miss  Mat- 
thews :  "  nothing  delights  me  more  than  scenes  of  ten- 
derness. I  should  be  glad  to  know,  if  possible,  every 
syllable  which  was  uttered  on  both  sides." 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  85 

*'  I  will  indulge  you,  then,"  cries  Booth,  "  as  far  as  it 
is  in  my  power.  Indeed,  1  believe  I  am  able  to  recol- 
lect much  the  greater  part ;  for  the  impression  is  never 
to  be  effaced  from  my  memory." 

He  then  proceeder'.  i--.  Miss  Matthews  desired;  but, 
lest  our  readers  shour'  iiot  be  of  her  opinion,  we  will, 
according  to  our  usual  custom,  endeavour  to  accommo- 
date ourselves  to  every  taste  ;  and  shall  therefore  place 
this  scene  in  a  chapter  by  itself,  v^hich  we  desire  all  our 
readers,  who  do  not  love,  or  who,  perhaps,  do  not  know 
the  pleasure  of  tenderness,  to  pass  over  ;  since  they  may 
do  this  withe  L'.t  any  prejudice  to  the  thread  of  the  nar- 
rative. 


Chapter  II. — Containing  a  scene  of  the  tender  kind. 

*'  The  doctor,  madam,"  continued  Booth,  "  spent  his 
evening  at  Mrs.  Harris's  house,  where  I  sat  with  him 
w^hile    he   smoked   his    pillow-pipe,    as  his   phrase   is. 
Amelia  was  retired  above  half  an  hour  to  her  chamber, 
before  I  went  to  see  her.     At  my  entrance  1  found  her 
on  her  knees,  a  posture  in  which  I  never  disturbed  her  : 
in  a  few  minutes  she  arose,  came  to  me,  and,  embracing 
me,  said  she  had  been  praying  for  resolution  to  support 
the  cruellest  moments  she  had  undergone,  or  could  pos- 
sibly undergo.     I  reminded  5^er  how  much  more  bitter 
a  farewell  would  be   on  a  deathbed,  when   we  never 
could  meet,  in  this  world  at  least,  again.     I  then  en- 
deavoured to  lessen  all  those  objects  which  alarmed  her 
most,  and  particularly  the  danger  I  was  to  encounter ; 
upon  which  head  I  seemed  a  little  to  comfort  her :  but 
the  probable  length   of  my    absence,  and   the  certain 
length  of  my  voyage,  w^ere  circumstances  which  no  or- 
atory of  mine  could  even  palliate.     '  Oh  Heavens  !'  said 
she,  bursting  into  tears,  '  can  I  bear  to  think  that  hun» 
dreds,  thousands,  for  aught  I  know,  of  miles  or  leagues  ; 
that  lands  and  seas  are  between  us  1     What  is  the  pros- 
pect from  that  mount  in  our  garden,  where  I  have  sat 
so  many  happy  hours  with  my  Billy  ]  what  is  the  dis- 
tance between  that  and  the  farthest  hill  which  we  see 
from  thence,  compared  to  the  distance  which  will  be 
between  us  1    You  cannot  wonder  at   this  idea :  you 
must  remember,  my  Billy,  at  this  place,  this  very 
8 


86  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

thought  came  formerly  into  my  foreboding  mind.     I 
then  begged  you  to  leave  the  army  :  why  would  you  not 
comply  ]     Did  1  not  tell  you  then,  that  the  smallest  cot- 
tage we  could  survey  from  the  mount,  would  be  with 
you  a  paradise  to  me  1     It  would  be  so  still.     Why  can't 
my  Billy  think  so  1    Am  I  so  much  his  superior  in  love  1 
Where  is  the  dishonour,  Billy  ?  or,  if  there  be  any,  will 
it  reach  our  ears  in   our  little  hut  ?      Are   glory   and 
fame,  and  not  his  Amelia,  the  happiness  of  my  husband  1 
Go,  then,  purchase  them  at  my  expense !     You  will  pay 
a  few  sighs,  perhaps  a  few  tears,  at  parting,  and  then 
new  scenes  will  drive  away  the  thoughts  of  poor  Ame- 
lia from  your  bosom  :  but  what  assistance  shall  I  have 
in  my  affliction  "?  not  that  any  change  of  scene  could 
drive  you  one  moment  from  my  remembrance  ;  yet  here 
every  object  I  behold  will  place  your  loved  idea  in  the 
liveliest  manner  before  my  eyes.     This  is  the  bed  in 
which  you  have  reposed  ;  that  is  the  chair  in  which  you 
sat  ;  upon  these  boards  you  have  stood ;  these    books 
you  have  read  to  me.     Can  I  walk  among  our  beds  of 
flowers,  without  viewing  your  favourites — nay,  those 
which  you  have  planted  with  your  own  hands  1     Can  I 
see  one  beauty  from  our  beloved  mount,  which  you  have 
not  pointed  out  to  me  V    Thus  she  went  on,  the  woman, 
madam,  you  see,  still  prevailing."     "  Since  you  mention 
it,"  says  Miss  Matthews,  with  a  smile,  "  I  own  the  same 
observation  occurred  to  me.     It  is  too  natural  to  us  to 
consider   ourselves   only,   Mr.    Booth."      "  You    shall 
hear,"  he  cried  :  "at  last,  the  thoughts  of  her  present 
condition  suggested  themselves.    '  But  if,'  said  she,  '  my 
situation,  even  in  health,  will  be  so  intolerable,  how 
shall  I,  in  the  danger  and  agonies  of  childbirth,  support 
your  absence  V     Here  she  stopped,  and,  looking  on  me 
with  all  the  tenderness  imaginable,    cried    out,  'And 
am  I  then  such  a  wretch  to  wish  for  your  presence 
at  such  a  season  1  ought  I  not  to  rejoice  that  you  are 
out  of  the  hearing  of  my  cries  or  the  knowledge  of 
my  pains  ?  if  I  die,  will  you  not  have  escaped  the  hor- 
rors  of  a  parting,   ten  thousand  times  more  dreadful 
than  this  1     Go,  go,  my  Billy  :  the  very  circumstance 
which  made  me  most  dread  your  departure,  has  per- 
fectly reconciled  me  to  it.     I  perceive  clearly  now  that 
I  was  only  wishing  to  support  my  own  weakness  with 
your  strength,  and  to  relieve  my  own  pains  at  the  price 
of  yours.     Believe  me,  my  love,  I  am  ashamed  of  my- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  87 

self.'  I  caught  her  in  my  arms  with  wiptures  not  to 
be  expressed  in  words,  calling  her  my  heroine  ;  (sure 
none  ever  better  deserved  that  name ;)  after  which  we 
remained  for  some  time  speechless  and  locked  in  each 
other's  embraces."     "  1  am  convinced,"  said  Miss  Mat- 

lews,  with  a  sigh,  "  there  are  moments  in  Ufe  worth 

■urchasing  with  worlds." 

"  At  length  the  fatal  morning  came :  I  endeavoured 
to  hide  every  pang  of  my  heart,  and  to  wear  the  utmost 
gayety  in  my  countenance.  Amelia  acted  the  same 
part.  In  these  assumed  characters  we  met  the  family 
at  breakfast;  at  their  breakfast,  I  mean;  for  we  were 
both  full  already.  The  doctor  had  spent  above  an  hour 
that  morning  in  discourse  with  Mrs.  Harris,  and  had,  in 
some  measure,  reconciled  her  to  my  departure.  He 
now  made  use  of  every  art  to  relieve  the  poor,  distressed 
Amelia;  not  by  inveighing  against  the  folly  of  grief,  or 
by  seriously  advising  her  not  to  grieve  ;  both  which 
were  sufficiently  performed  by  Miss  Betty.  The  doctor, 
on  the  contrary,  had  recourse  to  every  means  which 
might  cast  a  veil  over  the  idea  of  grief,  and  raise  com- 
fortable images  in  my  angel's  mind.  He  endeavoured 
to  lessen  the  supposed  length  of  my  absence,  by  dis- 
coursing on  matters  which  were  more  distant  in  time. 
He  said,  he  intended  next  year  to  rebuild  a  part  of  his 
parsonage-house  ;  and  you,  captain,  says  he,  shall  lay 
the  corner-stone,  I  promise  you ;  with  many  other  in- 
stances of  the  like  nature,  which  produced,  I  believe, 
some  good  effect  on  us  both. 

"Amelia  spoke  but  little;  indeed,  more  tears  than 
words  dropped  from  her  ;  however,  she  seemed  re- 
solved to  bear  her  affliction  with  resignation  :  but  when 
the  dreadful  news  arrived  that  the  horses  were  ready, 
and  I,  having  taken  my  leave  of  all  the  rest,  at  last  ap- 
proached her,  she  was  unable  to  support  the  conflict 
with  nature  any  longer ;  and,  clinging  round  my  neck, 
she  cried, '  Farewell — farewell  for  ever !  for  I  shall  never, 
never  see  you  more.'  At  which  words  the  blood  entirely 
forsook  her  lovely  cheeks,  and  she  became  a  hfeless 
corpse  in  my  arms. 

"  Amelia  continued  so  long  motionless,  that  the  doc- 
tor, as  well  as  Mrs.  Harris,  began  to  be  under  the  most 
terrible  apprehensions,  so  they  informed  me  afterward  ; 
for  at  that  time  I  was  incapable  of  making  any  observa- 
tion.   I  had,  indeed,  very  little  more  use  of  my  senses 


88  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

than  the  dear  creature  whom  I  supported.  At  length, 
however,  we  were  all  delivered  from  our  fears ;  and  life 
again  visited  the  loveliest  mansion  that  human  nature 
ever  afforded  it. 

"  I  had  been,  and  yet  was,  so  terrified  with  what  had 
happened,  and  Amelia  continued  yet  -so  weak  and  ill, 
that  I  determined,  whatever  might  be  the  consequence, 
not  to  leave  her  that  day ;  which  resolution  she  was  no 
sooner  acquainted  with,  than  she  fell  on  her  knees,  cry- 
ing, '  Good  Heaven !  I  thank  thee  for  this  reprieve  at 
least.  Oh  that  every  hour  of  my  future  life  could  be 
crammed  into  this  dear  day  !' 

"  Our  good  friend  the  doctor  remained  with  us :  he 
said,  he  had  intended  to  visit  a  family  in  some  affliction; 
*  but  I  don't  know,'  says  he, '  why  I  should  ride  a  dozen 
miles  after  affliction,  when  we  have  enough  here.'  Of 
all  mankind  the  doctor  is  the  best  ot  couiforters.  As 
his  excessive  good-nature  makes  him  take  vast  delight 
m  the  office,  so  his  great  penetration  into  the  human 
mind,  joined  to  his  great  experience,  renders  him  the 
most  wonderful  proficient  in  it ;  and  he  so  well  knows 
when  to  sooth,  when  to  reason,  and  when  to  ridicule, 
that  he  never  applies  any  of  those  arts  improperly, 
which  is  almost  universally  ihe  case  with  the  physi- 
cians of  the  mind,  and  which  it  requires  very  great 
judgment  and  dexterity  to  avoid. 

"  The  doctor  principally  applied  himself  to  ridiculing 
the  dangers  of  the  siege,  in  which  he  succeeded  so  well, 
that  he  sometimes  forced  a  smile  even  into  the  face  of 
Amelia.  But  what  most  comforted  her,  was  the  argu- 
ments he  used  to  convince  her  of  the  probability  of  my 
speedy,  if  not  immediate  return.  He  said,  the  general 
opinion  was,  that  the  place  would  be  taken  before  our 
arrival  there  ;  in  which  case,  we  should  have  nothing 
more  to  do  than  to  make  the  best  of  our  v/ay  home 
again. 

"  Amelia  was  so  lulled  by  these  arts,  that  she  passed 
the  day  much  better  than  I  expected.  Though  the 
doctor  could  not  make  pride  strong  enough  to  conquer 
love,  yet  he  exalted  the  former  to  make  some  stand 
against  the  latter;  insomuch,  that  my  poor  Amelia,  I 
believe,  more  than  once  flattered  herself,  to  speak  the 
language  of  the  world,  that  her  reason  had  gained  an 
entire  victory  over  her  passion ;  till  love  brought  up  a 


fHE  HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  89 

re-enforcement,  if  I  may  use  that  term,  of  tender  ideas, 
and  bore  down  all  before  him. 

"In  the  evening,  the  doctor  and  I  passed  another 
half  hour  together,  when  he  proposed  to  me  to  endeav- 
our to  leave  Amelia  asleep  in  the  m.orning,  and  prom- 
ised me  to  be  at  hand  when  she  awaked,  and  to  support 
her  with  all  the  assistance  in  his  power  :  he  added,  that 
nothing  was  more  foolish  than  for  friends  to  take  leave 
of  each  other.  '  It  is  true  indeed,'  says  he,  '  in  the  com- 
mon acquaintance  and  friendship  of  the  world,  this  is  a 
very  harmless  ceremony;  but  between  two  persons 
who  really  love  each  other,  the  church  of  Rome  never 
invented  a  penance  half  so  severe  as  this,  which  we 
absurdly  impose  on  ourselves.' 

"  I  greatly  approved  the  doctor's  proposal,  thanked 
him,  and  promised,  if  possible,  to  put  it  in  execution. 
He  then  shook  me  by  the  hand,  and  heartily  wished  me 
well,  saying,  in  his  blunt  way, '  Well,  boy,  I  hope  to  see 
thee  crowned  with  laurels  at  thy  return  :  one  comfort  I 
have  at  least,  that  stone  walls  and  a  sea  will  prevent 
thee  from  running  away.' 

"  When  I  had  left  the  doctor,  I  repaired  to  my  Amelia, 
whom  I  found  in  her  chamber,  employed  in  a  very  dif- 
ferent manner  from  what  she  had  been  the  preceding 
night  :  she  was  busy  in  packing  up  some  trinkets  in  a 
casket,  which  she  desired  me  to  carry  with  me.  This 
casket  was  her  own  work,  and  she  had  just  fastened  it 
as  I  came  to  her. 

"  Her  eyes  very  plainly  discovered  what  had  passed 
while  she  was  engaged  in  her  work :  however,  her 
countenance  was  now  serene,  and  she  spoke,  at  least, 
with  some  cheerfulness ;  but,  after  some  time,  '  You 
must  take  care  of  this  casket,  Billy,'  said  she;  *  you 
must,  indeed,  Billy — for' — here  passion  almost  choked 
her,  till  a  flood  of  tears  gave  her  relief,  and  then  she 
proceeded — '  for  I  shall  be  the  happiest  woman  that 
ever  was  born  when  I  see  it  again.'  I  told  her,  with  the 
blessing  of  God,  that  day  would  soon  come.  '  Soon?' 
answered  she  :  '  no,  Billy,  not  soon  ;  a  week  is  an  age : 
but  yet  the  happy  day  may  come.  It  shall,  it  must,  it 
will !  Yes,  Billy,  we  shall  meet  never  to  part  again ; 
even  in  this  world,  I  hope.'  Pardon  my  weakness, 
Miss  Matthews  ;  but,  upon  my  soul,  I  cannot  help  it," 
cried  he,  wiping  his  eyes.  "  Well,  I  wonder  at  your 
patience,  and  I  will  try  it  no  longer.     Amelia,  tired  out 


90  THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA. 

with  so  long  a  struggle  between  a  variety  of  passions* 
and  having  not  closed  her  eyes  "iuring  three  successive 
nights,  towards  the  morning  fell  into  a  profound  sleep, 
in  which  sleep  1  left  her ;  and  having  dressed  myself 
with  all  the  expedition  imaginable,  singing,  whistlings 
hurrying,  atten»pting,  by  every  method,  to  banish  thought) 
I  mounted  my  horse,  which  I  had  over  night  ordered  to 
be  ready,  and  galloped  away  from  that  house  where  all 
my  treasure  was  deposited. 

"Thus,  madam,  1  have,  in  obedience  to  your  com- 
mands, run  through  a  scene,  which,  if  it  has  been  tire^ 
some  to  you,  you  must  yet  acquit  me  of  having  obtruded 
upon  you :  this  I  am  convinced  of,  that  no  one  is  capable 
Cf  tasting  such  a  scene  who  has  not  a  heart  full  of  ten^ 
derness,  and  perhaps  not  even  then,  unless  he  has  been 
in  the  same  situation." 


Chapter  III. — In  which  Mr.  Booth  sets  forward  on  his  journey. 

"  Well,  madam,  we  have  now  taken  our  leave  of 
Amelia.  I  rode  a  full  mile  before  I  once  suffered  my- 
self to  look  back ;  but  now,  being  come  to  the  top  of  a 
little  hill,  the  last  spot  I  knew  which  could  give  me  a 
prpspect  of  Mrs.  Harris's  house,  my  resolution  failed: 
I  stopped  and  cast  my  eyes  backward.  Shall  I  tell  you 
what  I  felt  at  that  instant !  I  do  assure  you  I  am  not 
able.  So  many  tender  ideas  crowded  at  once  into  my 
mind,  that,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  they  almost  dis- 
solved my  heart.  And  now,  madam,  the  most  unfor- 
tunate accident  came  first  into  my  head  :  this  was,  that 
I  had,  in  the  hurry  and  confusion,  left  the  dear  casket 
behind  me.  The  thought  of  going  back  at  first  sug- 
gested itself;  but  the  consequences  of  that  were  too 
apparent ;  I  therefore  resolved  to  send  my  man,  and  in 
the  mean  time  to  ride  on  softly  on  my  road.  He  im- 
mediately executed  my  orders;  and  after  some  time 
feeding  my  eyes  with  that  delicious  and  yet  heartfelt 
prospect,  I  at  last  turned  my  horse  to  descend  the  hill, 
and  proceeded  about  a  hundred  yards,  when,  consider- 
ing with  myself  that  I  should  lose  no  time  by  a  second 
indulgence,  I  again  turned  back,  and  once  more  feasted 
my  sight  with  the  same  painful  pleasure,  till  my  man 
tetwrned*  bringing  me  the  casket,  and  an  account  that 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  91 

Amelia  still  continued  in  the  sweet  sleep  I  left  her.  1 
now  suddenly  turned  my  horse  for  the  last  time,  and 
with  the  utmost  resolution  pursued  my  journey. 

"  I  perceived  my  man,  at  his  return— but  before  I 
mention  anything  of  him,  it  may  be  proper,  madam,  to 
acquaint  you  who  he  was  ;  he  was  the  foster-brother  of 
my  Amelia.  This  young  fellow  had  taken  it  into  his 
head  to  go  into  the  army  ;  and  he  was  desirous  to  serve 
under  my  command.  The  doctor  consented  to  discharge 
him. ;  his  mother  at  last  yielded  to  liis  importunities  ; 
and  I  was  very  easily  prevailed  on  to  list  one  of  the  hand- 
somest young  fellows  in  England. 

"  You  will  easily  believe  I  had  somehttle  partiality  to 
one  whose  milk  Amelia  had  sucked  ;  but,  as  he  had  never 
seen  the  regiment,  I  had  no  opportunity  to  show  him 
any  great  mark  of  favour :  indeed,  he  waited  on  me  as  my 
servant,  and  I  treated  him  with  all  the  tenderness  which 
tian  be  used  to  one  in  that  station. 

"  When  I  was  about  to  change  into  the  horse-guards, 
the  poor  fellow  began  to  droop,  fearing  that  he  should 
no  longer  be  in  the  same  corps  with  me,  though  certainly 
that  would  not  have  been  the  case.  However,  he  had 
never  mentioned  one  word  of  his  dissatisfaction.  He  is 
indeed  a  fellow  of  a  noble  spirit :  but  when  he  heard 
that  I  was  to  remain  where  I  was,  and  that  we  were  to 
go  to  Gibraltar  together,  he  fell  into  transports  of  joy, 
little  short  of  madness.  In  short,  the  poor  fellow  had 
imbibed  a  very  strong  affection  for  me,  though  this  was 
what  I  knew  nothing  of  till  long  after. 

"  When  he  returned  to  me  then,  as  I  was  saying,  with 
the  casket,  I  observed  his  eyes  all  over  blubbered  with 
tears.  I  rebuked  him  a  little  too  rashly  on  this  occa- 
sion. '  Heyday  !'  says  I, '  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  I 
hope  I  have  not  a  milksop  with  me  !  If  I  thought  you 
would  show  such  a  face  to  the  enemy,  I  would  leave  you 
behind.'  '  Your  honour  need  not  fear  that,'  answered  he ; 
'  I  shall  find  nobody  there  that  I  shall  love  well  enough  to 
make  me  cry.'  1  was  highly  pleased  with  this  answer, 
in  which  I  thought  I  could  discover  both  sense  and 
spirit.  I  then  asked  him  what  had  occasioned  those  tears 
since  he  had  left  me,  for  he  had  no  sign  of  any  at  that 
time :  and  whether  he  had  seen  his  mother  at  Mrs. 
Harris's.  He  answered  in  the  negative,  and  begged  that 
I  would  ask  him  no  more  questions  ;  adding,  that  he  wa^ 


92  THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA. 

not  very  apt  to  cry,  and  he  hoped  he  should  never  give  me 
such  another  opportunity  of  blaming  him.  I  mention 
this  only  as  an  instance  of  his  affection  towards  me  ;  for 
I  never  could  account  for  those  tears  any  otherwise  than 
by  placing  them  to  the  account  of  that  distress  in  which 
he  left  me  at  that  time.  We  travelled  full  forty  miles 
that  day  without  baiting,  when,  arriving  at  the  inn  where 
I  intended  to  rest  that  night,  I  retired  immediately  to 
my  chamber  with  my  dear  Amelia's  casket,  the  opening 
of  which  was  the  nicest  repast,  and  to  which  every  other 
hunger  gave  way. 

"It  is  impossible  to  mention  to  you  all  the  little  mat- 
ters with  which  Amelia  had  furnished  this  casket :  it 
contained  medicines  of  all  kinds,  which  her  mother,  who 
was  the  Lady  Bountiful  of  that  country,  had  supplied  her 
with.  The  most  valuable  of  all  to  me  was  a  lock  of  her 
dear  hair,  which  I  have,  from  that  time  to  this,  worn  in 
my  bosom.  What  would  I  have  then  given  for  a  little 
picture  of  my  dear  angel,  which  she  had  lost  from  her 
chamber  about  a  month  before,  and  which  we  had  the 
highest  reason  in  the  world  to  imagine  her  sister  had 
taken  away  !  for  the  suspicion  lay  only  between  her  and 
Amelia's  maid,  who  was,  of  all  creatures,  the  honestest, 
and  whom  her  mistress  had  often  trusted  with  things  of 
much  greater  value ;  for  the  picture,  which  was  set  in 
gold,  and  had  two  or  three  little  diamonds  round  it,  was 
w^orth  about  twelve  guineas  only  ;  whereas  Amelia  left 
jewels  in  her  care  of  much  greater  value." 

"  Sure,"  cries  Miss  Matthews,  *'  she  could  not  be  such 
a  paltry  pilferer !" 

'•  Not  on  account  of  the  gold  or  the  jewels,"  cries 
Booth  :  "  we  imputed  it  to  mere  spite,  with  which  I 
assure  you  she  abounds ;  and  she  knew,  that  next  to 
Amelia  herself,  there  was  nothing  which  I  valued  so 
much  as  this  little  picture  ;  for  such  a  resemblance  did 
it  bear  of  the  original,  that  Hogarth  himself  did  never,  I 
believe,  draw  a  stronger  likeness.  Spite,  therefore, 
was  the  only  motive  to  this  cruel  depredation ;  and,  in- 
deed, her  behaviour  on  the  occasion  sufficiently  con- 
vinced us  both  of  the  justice  of  our  suspicion,  though 
we  neither  of  us  durst  accuse  her;  and  she  herself  had 
the  assurance  to  insist  very  strongly  (though  she  could 
not  prevail)  with  Amelia,  to  turn  away  her  innocent 
maid,  saying,  she  would  not  live  in  the  house  with  a 
thief." 


Hl£j      lli;51VJltX       Ur      AiMliLilA. 


Vii 


Miss  Matthews  now  discharged  some  curses  on  Miss 
Betty,  not  much  worth  repeating,  and  then  Mr.  Booth 
proceeded  in  his  relation. 


Chapter  IV'. — A  sea-piece. 

"  The  next  day  we  joined  the  regiment,  whicli  was 
soon  after  to  embark.  Nothing  but  mirth  and  jolhty 
were  in  the  countenance  of  every  officer  and  soldier ; 
and,  as  I  now  met  several  friends  whom  I  had  not  seen 
for  above  a  year  before,  I  passed  several  happy  hours, 
in  which  poor  Amelia's  image  seldom  obtruded  itself  to 
mtqrruptj  my  pleasure.  To  confess  the  truth,  dear  Miss 
Matthefys,  the  tenderest  of  passions  is  capable  of  subsi- 
ding ;;,n9r  is  absence  from  our  dearest  friends  so  insup- 
porti^t»fQ,as  it  may  at  first  appear.  Distance  of  time  and 
place  dpes  really  cure  what  it  seems  to  aggravate  ;  and 
taking  leave  of  our  friends  resembles  taking  leave  of 
the  world  ;  concerning  which  it  hath  been  often  said^ 
that  it  is  not  death,  but  dying,  which  is  terrible."  Here 
Miss  Matthews  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  and  cried, 
"  I  sincerely  ask  your  pardon  ;  but  I  cannot  help  laugh- 
ing at  the  gravity  of  your  philosophy."  Booth  answered, 
that  the  doctrine  of  the  passions  had  been  always  his 
favourite  study  ;  that  he  was  convinced  every  man 
acted  entirely  from  that  pastion  which  was  uppermost. 
"  Can  I  then  think,"  said  he,  "  without  entertaining  the 
utmost  contempt  for  myself,  that  any  pleasure  upon  earth 
could  drive  the  thoughts  of  Amelia  one  instant  from  my 
mind  ? 

"  At  length  we  embarked  on  board  a  transport,  and 
sailed  for  Gibraltar ;  but  the  wind,  which  was  at  first 
fair,  soon  chopped  about;  so  that  we  were  obliged,  for 
several  days,  to  beat  to  windward,  as  the  sea-phrase  is. 
During  this  time,  the  taste  which  I  had  of  a  seafaring 
life  did  not  appear  extremely  agreeable  :  we  rolled  up 
and  down  in  a  little  narrow  cabin,  in  which  were  three 
officers,  all  of  us  extremely  seasick  ;  our  sickness  being 
much  aggravated  by  the  motion  of  the  ship,  by  the  view 
of  each  other,  and  by  the  stench  of  the  men.  But  this 
was  but  a  httle  taste,  indeed,  of  the  misery  which  was  to 
follow  ;  for  we  were  got  about  six  leagues  to  the  west- 
ward of  Scilly,  when  a  violent  storm  arose  at  northeast, 


94  THE    HISTORY  OF   AMELIA. 

which  soon  raised  the  waves  to  the  height  of  mountains. 
The  horror  of  this  is  not  to  be  adequately  described  to 
those  who  have  never  seen  the  hke.  The  storm  began  in 
the  evening;  and,  as  the  clouds  brought  on  the  night 
apace,  it  was  soon  entirely  dark ;  nor  had  we,  during  many 
hours,  any  other  light  than  what  was  caused  by  the  jar- 
ring elements,  which  frequently  sent  forth  flashes,  or 
rather  streams  of  fire  ;  and,  while  these  presented  the 
most  dreadful  objects  to  our  eyes,  the  roaring  of  the 
winds,  the  dashing  of  the  waves  against  the  ship  and 
each  other,  formed  a  sound  altogether  as  horrible  for 
our  ears  ;  while  our  ship,  sometimes  lifted  up  as  it  were 
to  the  skies,  and  sometimes  sw  ept  away  at  once  as  into 
the  lowest  abyss,  seemed  to  be  the  sport  of  the  winds 
and  seas.  The  captain  himself  almost  gave  all  for  lost, 
and  expressed  his  apprehension  of  being  inevitably  cast 
on  the  rocks  of  Scilly,  and  beat  to  pieces.  And  now, 
while  some  on  board  were  addressing  themselves  to 
the  Supreme  Being,  and  others  applying  for  comfort  to 
strong  liquors,  my  whole  thoughts  were  entirely  en- 
gaged by  my  Amelia.  A  thousand  tender  ideas  crowded 
into  my  mind.  I  can  truly  say,  that  1  had  not  a  single 
consideration  about  myseff,  in  which  she  was  not  con- 
cerned: dying  to  me  was  leaving  her;  and  the  fear  of 
never  seeing  her  more  was  a  dagger  stuck  in  my  heart. 
Again,  all  the  terrors  with  which  this  storm,  if  it  reached 
her  ears,  must  fill  her  gentle  mind  on  my  account,  and 
the  agonies  which  she  must  undergo,  w^hen  she  heard  of 
my  fate,  gave  me  such  intolerable  pangs,  that  I  now  re- 
pented my  resolution,  and  wished  (I  own  I  wished)  that 
1  had  taken  her  advice,  and  preferred  love  and  a  cottage 
to  all  the  dazzling  charms  of  honour. 

"  While  I  was  tormenting  myself  with  those  medita- 
tions, and  had  concluded  myself  as  certainly  lost,  the 
master  came  into  the  cabin,  and,  with  a  cheerful  voice, 
assured  us  that  w^e  had  escaped  the  danger,  and  that  we 
had  certainly  passed  to  the  westward  of  the  rock.  This 
was  comfortable  news  to  all  present ;  and  my  captain, 
who  had  been  some  time  on  his  knees,  leaped  suddenly 
up,  and  testified  his  joy  wqth  a  great  oath. 

"A  person  unused  to  the  sea  would  have  been  aston- 
ished at  the  satisfaction  which  now  discovered  itself 
in  the  master  or  in  any  on  board ;  for  the  storm  still 
raged  with  great  violence,  and  the  daylight,  which  now 
appeared,  presented  us  with  sights  of  horror  sufllcient 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  95 

to  terrify  minds  which  were  not  absohite  slaves  to  the 
passion  of  fear;  but  so  great  is  the  force  of  habit,  that 
what  inspires  a  landman  with  the  highest  apprehension 
of  danger,  gives  not  the  least  concern  to  a  sailor,  to 
whom  rocks  and  quicksands  are  almost  the  only  objects 
of  terror. 

*'  The  master,  however,  was  a  little  mistaken  in  the 
present  instance  ;  for  he  had  not  left  the  cabin  above 
an  hour,  before  my  man  came  running  to  me,  and  ac- 
quainted me  that  the  ship  was  half  full  of  water ;  that 
the  sailors  were  going  to  hoist  out  the  boat  and  save 
themselves  ;  and  begged  me  to  come  that  moment  along 
with  him,  as  I  tendered  my  preservation.  With  this  ac- 
count, which  was  conveyed  to  me  in  a  whisper,  I  ac- 
quainted both  the  captain  and  ensign  ;  and  we  altogether 
immediately  mounted  the  deck,  where  we  found  the 
master  making  use  of  all  his  oratory  to  persuade  the 
sailors  that  the  ship  was  in  no  danger,  and  at  the  same 
time  employing  all  his  authority  to  set  the  pumps  a-going, 
which  he  assured  them  would  keep  the  water  under, 
and  save  his  dear  Lovely  Peggy,  (for  that  was  the  name 
of  the  ship,)  which  he  swore  he  loved  as  dearly  as  his 
own  soul. 

"  Indeed,  this  sufficiently  appeared  ;  for  the  leak  was 
so  great,  and  the  water  flowed  in  so  plentifully,  that  his 
Lovely  Peggy  was  half  filled,  before  he  could  be  brought 
to  think  of  quitting  her :  but  now  the  boat  was  brought 
alongside  the  ship:  and  the  master  himself,  notwith- 
standing all  his  love  for  her,  quitted  his  ship,  and  leaped 
into  the  boat :  every  man  present  attempted  to  follow 
his  example,  when  I  heard  the  voice  of  my  servant  roar- 
ing forth  my  name  in  a  kind  of  agony.  1  made  directly  to 
the  ship-side,  but  was  too  late  ;  for  the  boat,  being  al- 
ready overladen,  put  directly  off.  And  now,  madam,  I 
am  going  to  relate  to  you  an  instance  of  heroic  affection 
in  a  poor  fellow  towards  his  master,  to  which  love  it- 
self, even  among  persons  of  superior  education,  can 
produce  but  few  similar  instances.  My  poor  man,  be- 
ing unable  to  get  me  with  him  into  the  boat,  leaped 
suddenly  into  the  sea,  and  swam  back  to  the  ship ;  and 
when  I  gently  rebuked  him  for  his  rashness,  he  an- 
swered, he  chose  rather  to  die  with  me,  than  to  live 
to  carry  the  account  of  my  death  to  my  Amelia :  at  the 
same  time  bursting  into  a  flood  of  tears,  he  cried, '  Good 
heavens  !  what  will  that  poor  lady  feel  when  she  hears 


96  THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA* 

of  this !'  This  tender  concern  for  my  dear  love  en* 
deared  the  poor  fellow  more  to  me  than  the  gallant  in- 
stance which  he  had  just  before  given  of  his  affection 
towards  myself 

"  And  now,  madam,  my  eyes  were  shocked  with  a 
sight,  the  horror  of  which  can  scarce  be  imagined  ;  for 
the  boat  had  scarce  go.t  four  hundred  yards  from  the 
ship,  when  it  was  swallowed  up  by  the  merciless  waves, 
which  now  ran  so  high,  that  out  of  the  number  of  per- 
sons which  were  in  the  boat  none  recovered  the  ship ; 
though  many  of  them  we  saw  miserably  perish  before 
our  eyes,  some  of  them  very  near  us,  without  any  pos- 
sibility of  giving  them  the  least  assistance. 

"But,  whatever  we  felt  for  them,  we  felt,  I  believe^ 
more  for  ourselves,  expecting  every  minute  when  we 
should  share  the  same  fate.  Among  the  rest,  one  of  our 
officers  appeared  quite  stupified  with  fear:  I  never, 
indeed,  saw  a  more  miserable  example  of  the  great 
power  of  that  passion.  1  must  not,  however,  omit 
doing  him  justice,  by  saying,  that  1  afterwards  saw 
the  same  man  behave  well  in  an  engagement,  in  which 
he  was  wounded ;  though  there,  hkewise,  he  was  said 
to  have  betrayed  the  same  passion  of  fear  in  his  counte- 
nance. 

"  The  other  of  our  officers  was  no  less  stupified  (if  I 
may  so  express  myself)  with  fool-hardiness,  and  seemed 
almost  insensible  of  his  danger.  To  say  the  truth,  I 
have  from  this  and  some  other  instances  which  1  have 
seen,  been  almost  inclined  to  think  that  the  courage  as 
well  as  the  cowardice  of  fools  proceeds  from  not  know- 
ing what  is  or  what  is  not  the  proper  object  of  fear  ;  in- 
deed, we  may  account  for  the  extreme  hardiness  of  some 
men  in  the  same  manner  as  for  the  terrors  of  children  at 
a  bugbear :  the  child  knows  not  but  that  the  bugbear  is 
the  proper  object  of  fear;  the  blockhead  knows  not  that 
a  cannon  ball  is  so. 

"  As  to  the  remaining  part  of  the  ship's  crew,  and  the 
soldiery,  most  of  them  were  dead  drunk ;  and  the  rest 
were  endeavouring,  as  fast  as  they  could,  to  prepare  for 
death  in  the  same  manner. 

"  In  this  dreadful  situation  we  were  taught  that  no 
human  condition  should  inspire  men  with  absolute  de- 
spair ;  for  as  the  storm  had  ceased  for  some  time,  the 
swelling  of  the  sea  began  cuasiderably  to  abate ;  and 
we  now  perceived  the  man-of-war  which  convoyed  us 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  97 

at  no  great  distance  astern.  Those  aboard  her  easily 
perceived  our  distress,  and  made  towards  us.  When 
they  came  pretty  near,  they  hoisted  out  two  boats  to 
our  assistance  :  these  no  sooner  approached  the  ship, 
than  they  were  instantaneously  filled,  and  I  myself 
got  a  place  in  one  of  them,  chiefly  by  the  aid  of  my 
honest  servant,  of  whose  fidelity  to  me  on  all  occasions 
I  cannot  speak  or  think  too  highly.  Indeed,  I  got 
into  the  boat  so  much  the  more  easily,  as  a  great  num- 
ber on  board  the  ship  were  rendered,  by  drink,  incapable 
of  taking  any  care  for  themselves.  There  was  time, 
however,  for  the  boat  to  pass  and  repass  ;  so  that,  when 
we  came  to  call  over  names,  three  only,  of  all  that  re- 
mained in  the  ship,  after  the  loss  of  our  own  boat,  were 
missing. 

"  The  captain,  ensign,  and  myself  were  received  with 
many  congratulations  by  our  officers  on  board  the  man- 
of-war.  The  sea-officers  too,  all  except  the  captain, 
paid  us  their  comphments,  though  these  were  of  the 
rougher  kind,  and  not  without  several  jokes  on  our 
escape.  As  for  the  captain  himself,  we  scarce  saw  him 
during  many  hours ;  and  when  he  appeared,  he  pre- 
sented a  view  of  majesty  beyond  any  that  1  had  ever 
seen.  The  dignity  which  he  preserved  did  indeed  give 
me  rather  the  idea  of  a  Mogul,  or  a  Turkish  emperor, 
than  any  of  the  monarchs  of  Christendom.  To  say  the 
truth,  I  could  resemble  his  walk  on  the  deck  to  nothing 
but  to  the  image  of  Captain  Gulliver  strutting  among  the 
Lilliputians  :  he  seemed  to  think  himself  a  being  of  an 
order  superior  to  all  around  him,  and  more  especially  to 
us  of  the  land  service.  Nay,  such  was  the  behaviour  of 
all  the  sea-officers  and  sailors  to  us  and  our  soldiers, 
that,  instead  of  appearing  to  be  subjects  of  the  same 
prince,  engaged  in  one  quarrel,  and  joined  to  support 
one  cause,  we  landmen  rather  seemed  to  be  captives  on 
board  an  enemy's  vessel.  This  is  a  grievous  misfortune, 
and  often  proves  so  fatal  to  the  service,  that  it  is  a  great 
pity  some  means  could  not  be  found  of  curing  it." 

Here  Mr.  Booth  stopped  a  while  to  take  breath :  we 
will  therefore  give  the  same  refreshment  to  the  reader. 
9  E 


98  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 


Chapter  V. — The  arrival  of  Booth  at  Gibraltar,  with  what  there 
befell  him. 

"  The  adventures,"  continued  Booth,  "  which  hap- 
pened to  me,  from  this  day  till  my  arrival  at  Gibraltar, 
are  not  worth  recounting  to  you.  After  a  voyage,  the 
remainder  of  which  was  tolerably  prosperous,  we  arrived 
in  that  garrison,  the  natural  strength  of  which  is  so  well 
known  to  the  whole  world. 

"About  a  week  after  my  arrival  it  was  my  fortune  to 
be  ordered  on  a  sally-party,  in  which  my  left  leg  was 
broken  with  a  musket  ball ;  and  I  should  most  certainly 
have  either  perished  miserably,  or  must  have  owed  my 
preservation  to  some  of  the  enemy,  had  not  my  faithful 
servant  carried  me  off  on  his  shoulders,  and  afterward, 
with  the  assistance  of  one  of  his  comrades,  brought  me 
back  into  the  garrison. 

"  The  agony  of  my  wound  was  so  great,  that  it  threw 
me  into  a  fever,  from  whence  my  surgeon  apprehended 
much  danger.  I  now  began  again  to  feel  for  my  Amelia, 
and  for  myself  on  her  account ;  and  the  disorder  of  my 
mind,  occasioned  by  such  melancholy  contemplations, 
very  highly  aggravated  the  distemper  of  my  body  ;  inso- 
much, that  it  would  probably  have  proved  fatal,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  friendship  of  one  Captain  James,  an  of- 
ficer of  our  regiment,  and  an  old  acquaintance,  who  is 
undoubtedly  one  of  the  pleasantest  companions,  and  one 
of  the  best  natured  men  in  the  world.  This  worthy 
man,  who  had  a  head  and  a  heart  perfectly  adequate  to 
every  office  of  friendship,  stayed  with  me  almost  day 
and  night  during  my  illness ;  and,  by  strengthening  my 
hopes,  raising  my  spirits,  and  cheering  my  thoughts, 
preserved  me  from  destruction. 

"  The  behaviour  of  this  man  alone  is  a  sufficient  proof 
of  the  truth  of  my  doctrine,  that  all  men  act  entirely 
from  their  passions ;  for  Bob  James  can  never  be  sup- 
posed to  act  from  any  motive  of  virtue  or  religion,  since 
he  constantly  laughs  at  both ;  and  yet,  his  conduct  to- 
wards me  alone  demonstrates  a  degree  of  goodness, 
which,  perhaps,  few  of  the  votaries  of  either  virtue  or 
religion  can  equal." 

"  You  need  not  take  much  pains,"  answered  Miss 
Matthews,  with  a  smile,  "  to  convince  me  of  your  doc- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  99 

trine  ;  I  have  been  always  an  advocate  for  the  same.  I 
look  upon  the  two  words  you  mention  to  serve  only  as 
cloaks,  under  which  hypocrisy  may  be  the  belter  enabled 
to  cheat  the  world.  I  have  been  of  that  opinion  ever 
since  I  read  that  charming  fellow  Mandevil." 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,"  answered  Booth,  *'  I  hope  you 
do  not  agree  with  Mandevil  neither,  who  has  represented 
human  nature  in  a  picture  of  the  highest  defonnity.  He 
has  left  out  of  his  system  the  best  passion  which  the 
mind  can  possess,  and  attempts  to  derive  the  effects  or 
energies  of  that  passion  from  the  base  impulses  of  pride 
or  fear :  whereas,  it  is  as  certain  that  love  exists  in  the 
mind  of  man,  as  that  its  opposite,  hatred,  does ;  and  the 
same  reasons  will  equally  prove  the  existence  of  the  one 
as  the  existence  of  the  other." 

"  I  don't  know,  indeed,"  replied  the  lady;  "I  never 
thought  much  about  the  matter.  This  1  know,  that 
when  I  read  Mandevil,  I  thought  all  he  said  was  true  : 
and  I  have  been  often  told  that  he  proves  religion  and 
virtue  to  be  only  mere  names.  However,  if  he  denies 
there  is  any  such  thing  as  love,  that  is  most  certainly 
wrong.  I  am  afraid  1  can  give  him  the  lie  myself."  "  I 
will  join  with  you,  madam,  in  that,"  answered  Booth, 
"  at  any  time."  "  Will  you  join  with  me  V  answered 
she,  looking  eagerly  at  him.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Booth  !  I  know 
not  what  I  was  going  to  say.  What — where  did  you 
leave  off?  I  would  not  interrupt  you — but  I  am  impa- 
tient to  know  something."  "  What,  madam  1"  cries 
Booth.     "  If  I  can  give  you  any  satisfaction — " 

"  No,  no,"  said  she,  "  I  must  hear  ail :  1  would  not  for 
the  world  break  the  thread  of  your  story — Besides,  I  am 
afraid  to  ask.     Pray,  pray,  sir,  go  on." 

*'  Well,  madam,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  think  I  was  men- 
tioning the  extraordinary  acts  of  friendship  done  me  by 
Captain  James ;  nor  can  I  help  taking  notice  of  the 
almost  unparalleled  fidelity  of  poor  Atkinson,  (for  that 
was  my  man's  name,)  who  was  not  only  constant  in  the 
assiduity  of  his  attendance,  but,  during  the  time  of  my 
danger,  demonstrated  a  concern  for  me  which  I  can 
hardly  account  for ;  as  my  prevailing  on  his  captain  to 
make  him  a  sergeant  was  the  first  favour  he  ever  re- 
ceived at  my  hands,  and  this  did  not  happen  till  I  was 
almost  perfectly  recovered  of  my  broken  leg.  Poor 
fellow !  I  shall  never  forget  the  extravagant  joy  his 
halberd  gave  him  :  1  remember  it  the  more,  because  it 
E3 


100  THE   HISTORY   OF   AMELIA. 

was  one  of  the  happiest  days  of  my  whole  life ;  for  it 
was  upon  this  day  that  I  received  a  letter  from  my  dear 
Amelia,  after  a  long  silence,  acquainting  me  that  she 
was  out  of  all  danger  from  her  lying-in. 

"  I  was  now  once  more  able  to  perform  mj'-  duty ; 
when  (so  unkind  was  the  fortune  of  war)  the  second 
time  I  mounted  the  guard,  I  received  a  violent  contusion 
from  the  bursting  of  a  bomb.  I  was  felled  to  the  ground, 
where  I  lay  breathless  by  the  blow,  till  honest  Atkinson 
came  to  my  assistance,  and  conveyed  me  to  my  room, 
where  a  surgeon  immediately  attended  me. 

"  The  injury  I  had  now  received  was  nmch  more  dan- 
gerous, in  my  surgeon's  opinion,  than  the  former  :  it 
caused  me  to  spit  blood,  and  was  attended  with  a  fever, 
and  other  bad  symptoms;  so  that  very  fatal  conse- 
quences were  apprehended. 

"  In  this  situation,  the  image  of  my  Amelia  haunted 
me  day  and  night ;  and  the  apprehensions  of  never  see- 
ing her  more  were  so  intolerable,  that  I  had  thoughts 
of  resigning  my  commission,  and  returning  home,  weak 
as  I  was,  that  I  might  have,  at  least,  the  satisfaction  of 
dying  in  the  arms  o(  my  love.  Captain  James,  however, 
persisted  in  dissuading  me  from  any  such  resolution. 
He  told  me  my  honour  was  too  nmch  concerned ;  at- 
tempted to  raise  my  hopes  of  recovery  to  the  utmost  of 
his  power ;  but  chiefly  he  prevailed  on  me  by  suggest- 
ing, that  if  the  worst  v.hich  I  apprehended  should  happen, 
it  was  much  better  for  Amelia  that  she  should  be  absent 
than  present  in  so  melancholy  an  hour.  '  I  know,'  cried 
he,  '  the  extreme  joy  which  must  arise  in  you  from  meet- 
ing again  with  Amelia,  and  the  comfort  of  expiring  in 
her  arms  ;  but  consider  what  she  herself  must  endure 
upon  the  dreadful  occasion,  and  you  would  not  wish  to 
purchase  any  happiness  at  the  price  of  so  much  pain  to 
her.'  This  argument,  at  length,  prevailed  on  me  ;  and  it 
was  after  many  long  debates  resolved,  that  she  should 
not  even  know  my  present  condition,  till  my  doom  either 
for  life  or  death  was  absolutely  fixed." 

"  Oh  heavens !  how  great !  how  generous  !''  cried  Miss 
I\fatthews.  "  Booth,  thou  art  a  noble  fellow ;  and  I 
scarce  think  there  is  a  woman  upon  earth  worthy  so 
exalted  a  passion." 

Booth  made  a  modest  answer  to  the  compliment  Avhich 
Miss  Matthews  had  paid  him :  this  drew  more  civilities 


I 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  101 

from  the  lady ;  and  these  again  more  acknovvledfr- 
ments  ;  all  which  we  shall  pass  by,  and  proceed  with  our 
history. 


Chapter  VI. — Containing  matters  which  will  please  some  readers. 

"  Two  months  and  more  had  I  continued  in  a  state  of 
uncertainty,  sometimes  with  more  flattering-,  and  some- 
times with  more  alarming  symptoms  ;  when,  one  after- 
noon, poor  Atkinson  came  running  into  my  room,  all 
pale  and  out  of  breath,  and  begged  me  not  to  be  surprised 
at  his  news.  I  asked  him  eagerly  what  was  the  matter, 
and  if  it  was  anything  concerning  Amelia.  I  had  scarce 
uttered  the  dear  name,  when  she  herself  rushed  into  the 
room,  and  ran  hastily  to  me,  crying,  '  Yes,  it  is,  it  is  your 
Amelia  herself!' 

"  There  is  nothing  so  difficult  to  describe,  and  gener- 
ally so  dull,  when  described,  as  scenes  of  excessive  ten- 
derness." 

"  Can  you  think  so  V  says  Miss  Matthews :  "  surely 
there  is  nothing  so  charming!  Oh,  Mr.  Booth,  our  sex 
is  d — ned  by  the  want  of  tenderness  in  yours.  Oh, 
were  they  all  like  you;  certainly  no  man  was  ever  your 
equal." 

"  Indeed,  madam,"  cries  Booth,  "  you  honour  me  too 
much.  But —  well — when  the  first  transports  of  our  meet- 
ing were  over,  Amelia  began  gently  to  chide  me  for 
having  concealed  my  illness  from  her ;  for,  in  three  let- 
ters which  I  had  written  her  since  the  accident  had 
happened,  there  was  not  the  least  mention  of  it,  or  any 
hint  given,  by  which  she  could  possibly  conclude  I  was 
otherwise  than  in  perfect  health  ;  and  when  I  had  ex- 
cused myself,  by  assigning  the  true  reason,  she  cried, 
'  Oh,  Mr.  Booth !  and  do  you  know  so  little  of  your  Ame- 
lia as  to  think  I  could  or  would  survive  you  ?  would  it 
not  be  better  for  one  dreadful  siglit  to  break  my  heart 
all  at  once,  than  to  break  it  by  degrees  ^  Oh,  Billy  !  can 
anything  pay  me  for  the  loss  of  this  embrace  V  But  I  ask 
your  pardon — how  ridiculous  does  my  fondness  appear 
in  your  eyes  !" 

"  How  often,"  answered  she,  "  shall  I  assert  the 
contrary!  What  would  you  have  me  say,  Mr.  Booth? 
Shall  I  tell  you  I  envy  Mrs.  Booth  of  all  the  women 
9* 


102  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

in  the  world  1  Would  you  believe  me  if  I  did  ?  I  hope 
you — what  am  I  saying  1  Pray,  make  no  farther  apology, 
but  go  on." 

"  After  a  scene,"  continued  he,  "  too  tender  to  be  con- 
ceived by  many,  Amelia  informed  me,  that  she  had  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  an  unknown  hand,  acquainting  her 
with  my  misfortune,  and  advising  her,  if  she  ever  de- 
sired to  see  me  more,  to  come  directly  to  Gibraltar. 
She  said,  she  should  not  have  delayed  a  moment,  after 
receiving  this  letter,  had  not  the  same  ship  brought  her 
one  from  me,  written  with  rather  more  than  usual  gay- 
ety,  and  in  which  there  was  not  the  least  mention  of  my 
indisposition.  This,  she  said,  greatly  puzzled  her  and 
her  mother  ;  and  the  worthy  divine  endeavoured  to  per- 
suade her  to  give  credit  to  my  letter,  and  to  impute  the 
other  to  a  species  of  wit  with  which  the  world  greatly 
abounds.  This  consists  entirely  in  doing  various  kinds 
of  mischief  to  our  fellow-creatures,  by  belying  one,  de- 
ceiving another,  exposing  a  third,  and  drawing  hi  a  fourth 
to  expose  himself:  in  short,  by  making  some  the  objects 
of  laughter,  others  of  contempt ;  and  indeed  not  seldom 
by  subjecting  them  to  very  great  inconveniences,  perhaps 
to  ruin,  for  the  sake  of  a  jest. 

"  Mrs.  Harris  and  the  doctor  derived  the  letter  from 
this  species  of  wit :  Miss  Betty,  houever,  was  of  a  dif- 
ferent opinion,  and  advised  poor  Amelia  to  apply  to  an 
officer,  whom  the  governor  had  sent  over  in  the  same 
ship ;  by  whom  the  report  of  my  illness  was  so  strongly 
confirmed,  that  Amelia  immediately  resolved  on  her 
voyage. 

"  I  had  a  great  curiosity  to  know  the  author  of  this 
letter  ;  but  not  tlie  least  trace  of  it  could  be  discovered. 
The  only  person  with  whom  I  lived  in  any  great  in- 
timacy was  Captain  James;  and  he,  madam,  from  wliat 
I  have  already  told  you,  you  will  think  to  be  the  last 
person  I  could  suspect ;  besides,  he  declared,  upon  his 
honour,  that  he  knew  nothing  of  the  matter ;  and  no  man's 
honour  is,  I  believe,  more  sacred.  There  was,  indeed, 
an  ensign  of  another  regiment  who  knew  my  wife,  and 
who  had  sometimes  visited  me  in  my  illness  ;  but  he  was 
a  very  unlikely  man  to  interest  himself  much  in  any 
affairs  which  did  not  concern  him ;  and  he  too  declared 
he  knew  nothing  of  it." 

"  And  did  you  never  discover  this  secret  V  cried  Miss 
Matthews.     "  Never  to  this  day,"  answered  Booth. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  103 

"  I  fancy,"  said  she,  "  I  could  give  a  shrewd  guess. 
What  so  likely,  as  that  Mrs.  Booth,  when  you  left  her, 
should  have  given  her  foster-brother  orders  to  send  her 
word  of  whatever  befell  you  ;  yet  stay,  that  could  not  be, 
neither  :  for  then  she  would  not  have  doubted  whether 
she  should  leave  dear  England  on  the  receipt  of  the  let- 
ter. No,  it  must  have  been  by  some  other  means;  yet 
that,  I  own,  appeared  extremely  natural  to  me  ;  for  if  I 
had  been  left  by  such  a  husband,  I  think  1  should  have 
pursued  the  same  method." 

"'  No,  madam,"  cried  Booth,  "  it  must  have  been  con- 
veyed by  some  other  channel ;  for  my  Amelia,  I  am  cer- 
tain, was  entirely  ignorant  of  the  manner ;  and  as  for 
poor  Atkinson,  I  am  convinced  he  would  not  have  ven- 
tured to  take  such  a  step  without  acquainting  me.  Be- 
sides, the  poor  fellow  had,  I  believe,  such  a  regard  for 
my  wife,  out  of  gratitude  for  the  favours  she  has  done 
his  mother,  that  I  make  no  doubt  he  was  highly  rejoiced 
at  her  absence  from  my  melancholy  scene.  Well,  who- 
ever wrote  it  is  a  matter  very  immaterial;  yet,  as  it 
seemed  so  odd  and  unaccountable  an  incident,  I  could 
not  help  mentioning  it. 

"From  the  time  of  Amelia's  arrival,  nothing  remark- 
able happened  till  my  perfect  recovery,  unless  I  should 
observe  her  remarkable  behaviour,  so  full  of  care  and 
tenderness,  that  it  was  perhaps  without  a  parallel." 

"Oh,  no,  Mr.  Booth,"  cries  the  lady;  "it  is  fully 
equalled,  1  am  sure,  by  your  gratitude.  There  is  noth- 
ing, I  believe,  so  rare  as  gratitude  in  your  sex,  espe- 
cially in  husbands.  So  kind  a  remembrance  is,  indeed, 
more  than  a  return  to  such  an  obligation ;  for  where  is 
the  mighty  obligation  which  a  woman  confers,  who, 
being  possessed  of  an  inestimable  jewel,  is  so  kind  to 
herself  as  to  be  careful  and  tender  of  it  ?  I  do  not  say 
this  to  lessen  your  opimon  of  Mrs.  Booth.  I  have  no 
doubt  but  that  she  loves  you  as  well  as  she  is  capable. 
But  I  would  not  have  you  think  so  meanly  of  our  sex, 
as  to  imagine  there  are  not  a  thousand  women  suscept- 
ible of  true  tenderness  towards  a  meritorious  man. 
Believe  me,  Mr.  Booth,  if  I  had  received  such  an  ac- 
count of  an  accident  having  happened  to  such  a  husband, 
a  mother  and  a  parson  would  not  have  held  me  a  mo- 
ment ;  I  should  have  leaped  into  the  first  fishing-boat  I 
could  have  found,  and  bid  defiance  to  the  winds  and 
waves.    Oh,  there  is  no  true  tenderness  but  in  a  woman 


104  THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA. 

of  spirit.  I  would  not  be  understood  all  this  while  to 
reflect  on  Mrs.  Booth.  I  am  only  defending  the  cause 
of  my  sex ;  for,  upon  my  soul,  such  compliments  to  a 
wife  are  a  satire  on  all  the  rest  of  womankmd." 

"  Sure  you  jest,  Miss  Matthews,"  answered  Booth, 
with  a  smile  ;  "  however,  if  you  please,  I  will  proceed 
in  my  story." 


Chapter  VII.— The  captain,  continuing  his  story,  recounts  some 
particulars,  which,  we  doubt  not,  to  niany  good  people,  will  ap- 
pear unnatural. 

"  I  WAS  no  sooner  recovered  from  my  indisposition 
than  Amelia  herself  fell  ill.  This,  I  am  afraid,  was  oc- 
casioned by  the  fatigues  which  I  could  not  prevent  her 
from  undergoing  on  my  account;  for,  as  my  disease 
went  off  with  violent  sweats,  during  which  the  surgeon 
strictly  ordered  that  1  should  lie  by  myself,  my  Amelia 
could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  spend  many  hours  in  her 
own  bed.  During  my  restless  fits  she  would  sometimes 
read  to  me  several  hours  together ;  indeed,  it  was  not 
without  difficulty  tiiat  she  ever  quitted  my  bedside. 
These  fatigues,  added  to  the  uneasiness  of  her  mind, 
overpowered  her  weak  spirits,  and  threw  her  into  one 
of  the  worst  disorders  that  can  possibly  attend  a  wo- 
man ;  a  disorder  very  common  among  the  ladies,  and 
our  physicians  have  not  agreed  upon  its  name :  some 
call  it  the  fever  on  the  spirits,  some  a  nervous  fever, 
some  the  vapours,  and  some  the  hysterics." 

"Oh,  say  no  more,"  cries  Miss  Matthews;  "I  pity 
you,  I  pity  you  from  my  soul.  A  man  had  better  be 
plagued  with  all  the  curses  of  Egypt  than  with  a  va- 
pourish wife." 

"  Pity  me  !  madam,"  answered  Booth,  "  pity  rather 
that  dear  creature,  who,  from  her  love  and  car§  of  my 
unworthy  self,  contracted  a  distemper,  the  horrors  of 
which  are  scarce  to  be  imagined.  It  is,  indeed,  a  sort 
of  complication  of  all  diseases  together,  with  almost 
madness  added  to  them.  In  this  situation,  the  siege 
being  at  an  end,  the  governor  gave  me  leave  to  attend 
my  wife  to  Montpelier,  the  air  of  which  was  judged  to 
be  most  likely  to  restore  her  to  health.    Upon  this  oc- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  105 

casion  she  wrote  to  her  mother  to  desire  a  remittance 
and  set  forth  the  melancholy  condition  of  her  health* 
and  her  necessity  for  money,  in  such  terms  as  would 
have  touched  any  bosom  not  void  of  humanity,  though 
a  stranger  to  the  unhappy  sufferer.  Her  sister  answered 
it,  and  I  believe  I  have  a  copy  of  the  answer  in  my 
pocket.  I  keep  it  by  me  as  a  curiosity ;  and  you  would 
think  it  more  so,  could  I  show  you  my  Ameha's  letter." 
He  then  searched  his  pocket-book;  and,  finding  the 
letter  among  many  others^  he  read  it  in  the  following 
words ; — 

""  '  Dear  Sister, 

" '  My  mamma  being  much  disordered,  has  commanded  me  to  tell 
you,  she  is  both  shocked  and  surprised  at  your  extraordinary  request, 
or,  as  she  chooses  to  call  it,  order  for  money.  You  know,  my 
dear,  she  says,  that  your  marriage  with  this  red-coat  man  was  en- 
tirely against  her  consent,  and  the  opinion  of  all  your  family;  ([  am 
sure  I  may  here  include  myself  in  that  number;)  and  yet,  after  tliis 
fatal  act  of  disobedience,  she  was  prevailed  on  to  receive  you  as 
her  child;  not,  however,  nor  sre  you  so  to  understand  it,  as  the 
favourite  which  you  was  before.  She  forgave  you,  but  this  was  as 
a  Christian  and  a  parent ;  still  preserving,  in  her  own  mind,  a  just 
sense  of  your  disobedience,  and  a  just  resentment  on  that  account. 
And  yet,  notwithstanding  this  resentment,  she  desires  you  to  re- 
member, that  when  you  a  second  time  ventured  to  oppose  her  au- 
thority, and  nothing  would  serve  you  but  taking  a  ramble  (an  inde- 
cent one,  I  can't  help  saying)  after  your  fellow,  she  thought  fit  to 
show  the  excess  of  a  mother's  tenderness,  and  furnished  you  with, 
no  less  than  fifty  pounds  for  your  foohsh  voyage.  How  can  she 
then  be  otherwise  than  surprised  at  your  present  demand  I  which, 
should  she  be  so  weak  as  to  comply  with,  she  must  expect  to  be  every 
month  repeated,  in  order  to  supply  the  extravagance  of  a  young 
rakish  ofiicer.  You  say,  she  will  compassionate  your  sufferings ; 
yes,  surely  she  does  greatly  compassionate  them,  and  so  do  1  too, 
though  you  was  neither  so  kind  nor  so  civil  as  to  suppose  I  should. 
But  I  forgive  all  your  slights  to  me,  as  well  now  as  formerly  :  nay, 
I  not  only  forgive,  but  I  pray  daily  for  you.  But,  dear  sister,  what 
could  you  expect  less  than  what  has  happened  ?  You  should  have 
believed  your  friends,  who  were  wiser  and  older  than  you.  I  do  not 
here  mean  myself,  though  I  own  I  am  eleven  months  and  some  odd 
weeks  your  superior  ;  though,  had  I  been  younger,  I  might,  perhaps, 
have  been  able  to  advise  you  ;  for  wisdom,  and  what  some  may  call 
beauty,  do  not  always  go  together.  You  will  not  be  offended  at 
this ;  for  I  know  in  your  heart  you  have  always  held  your  head 
above  some  people,  whom  perhaps  other  people  have  thought  better 
of.  But  why  do  I  mention  what  I  scorn  so  much?  No,  my  dear 
sister,  Heaven  forbid  it  should  ever  be  said  of  me,  that  1  value  my- 
self upon  my  face  ;  not  but  if  I  could  beheve  men,  perhaps — but  I 
hate  and  despise  men ;  you  know  I  do,  my  dear,  and  I  wish  you  had 
despised  them  as  much;  hntjacta  est  alea,  as  the  doctor  says.  You 
are  to  make  the  best  of  your  fortune  ;  what  fortune  1  mean  my  mamma 
E3 


106  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

may  please  to  give,  for  you  know  all  is  in  her  power.  Let  me  acf- 
vise  you  then  to  bring  your  mind  to  your  circumstances,  and  remem- 
ber (for  I  can't  help  writing  it,  as  it  is  for  your  own  good)  the  va- 
pours are  a  distemper  which  very  ill  become  a  knapsack.  Remem- 
ber, my  dear,  what  you  have  done  ;  remember  what  my  mamma 
has  done  ;  remember  we  have  something  of  yours  to  keep  ;  and  do 
not  consider  yourself  as  an  only  child — no,  nor  as  a  favourite  child; 
but,  be  pleased  to  remember,  dear  sister,  your  most  affectionate  sis- 
ter, and  most  obedient  humble  servant, 

E.  Harris.'" 

"  Oh,  brave  Miss  Betty !"  cried  Miss  Matthews  ;  "  I 
always  held  her  in  high  esteem  ;  but  I  protest  she  ex- 
ceeds even  what  I  could  have  expected  from  her." 

"  This  letter,  madam,"  cries  Booth,  "  you  will  be- 
lieve was  an  excellent  cordial  for  my  poor  wife's  spirits. 
So  dreadful  indeed  was  the  eifect  it  had  upon  her,  that, 
as  she  had  read  it  in  my  absence,  1  found  her,  at  my  re- 
turn home,  in  the  most  violent  fits ;  and  so  long  was  it 
before  she  recovered  her  senses,  that  I  despaired  of  that 
blessed  event  ever  happening,  and  my  own  senses  very 
narrowly  escaped  from  being  sacrificed  to  my  despair. 
However,  she  came  at  last  to  herself,  and  I  began  to 
consider  of  every  means  of  carrying  her  immediately 
to  Montpelier,  which  was  now  become  much  more  ne- 
cessary than  before. 

"  Though  I  was  greatly  shocked  at  the  barbarity  of 
the  letter,  yet  I  apprehended  no  very  ill  consequence 
from  it ;  for  as  it  was  believed  all  over  the  army  that  I 
had  married  a  great  fortune,  I  had  received  offers  of 
money,  if  I  wanted  it,  from  more  than  one.  Indeed, 
I  might  have  easily  carried  my  wife  to  Montpelier  at 
any  time  ;  but  she  was  extremely  averse  to  the  voyage, 
being  desirous  of  our  returning  to  England,  as  I  had 
leave  to  do  ;  and  she  grew  daily  so  much  better,  that, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  receipt  of  that  cursed — which 
I  have  just  read  to  you,  I  am  persuaded  she  might  have 
been  able  to  return  to  England  in  the  next  ship. 

"  Among  others,  there  was  a  colonel  in  the  garrison, 
who  had  not  only  offered,  but  importuned  me  to  receive 
money  of  him  :  1  now,  therefore,  repaired  to  him  ;  and 
as  a  reason  for  altering  my  resolution,  I  produced  the 
letter,  and  at  the  same  time  acquainted  him  with  the 
true  state  of  my  affairs.  The  colonel  read  the  letter, 
shook  his  head,  and,  after  some  silence,  said  he  was 
sorry  1  had  refused  to  accept  his  offer  before  ;  but  that 
he  had  now  so  ordered  matters,  and  disposed  of  his 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  107 

money,  that  he  had  not  a  shilling  left  to  spare  from  his 
own  occasions. 

"  Answers  of  the  same  kind  I  had  from  several  others, 
but  not  one  penny  could  I  borrow  of  any ;  for  I  have 
been  since  firmly  persuaded,  that  the  honest  colonel 
was  not  content  with  denying  me  himself,  but  took  ef- 
fectual means,  by  spreading  the  secret  I  had  so  foolishly 
trusted  him  with,  to  prevent  me  from  succeeding  else- 
where ;  for,  such  is  the  nature  of  men,  that  whoever  j 
denies  himself  to  do  you  a  favour,  is  unwilhng  that  it 
should  be  done  to  you  by  any  other. 

"  This  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  felt  that  distress 
which  arises  from  the  want  of  money;  a  distress  very 
dreadful  indeed  in  the  married  state  ;  for  what  can  be 
more  miserable  than  to  see  anything  necessary  for  the 
preservation  of  a  beloved  creature,  and  not  be  able  to 
supply  it  ] 

"  Perhaps  you  may  wonder,  madam,  that  I  have  not 
mentioned  Captain  James  on  this  occasion  ;  but  he  was 
at  that  time  laid  up  at  Algiers,  (whither  he  had  been 
sent  by  the  governor,)  in  a  fever.  However,  he  returned 
time  enough  to  supply  me,  which  he  did  with  the  utmost 
readiness,  on  the  very  first  mention  of  my  distress;  and 
the  good  colonel,  notwithstanding  his  having  disposed  of 
his  money,  discounted  the  captain's  draught.  You  see, 
madam,  an  instance,  in  the  generous  behaviour  of  my 
friend  James,  how  false  are  all  universal  satires  against 
human  kind.  He  is  indeed  one  of  the  worthiest  men  the 
world  ever  produced. 

"  But,  perhaps,  you  will  be  more  pleased  still  with  the 
extravagant  generosity  of  my  sergeant.  The  day  before 
the  return  of  Mr.  James,  the  poor  fellow  came  to  me, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  begged  I  would  not  be  of- 
fended at  what  he  was  going  to  mention.  He  then 
pulled  a  purse  from  his  pocket,  which  contained,  he  said, 
the  sum  of  twelve  pounds,  and  which  he  begged  me  to 
accept,  crying  he  was  sorry  it  was  not  in  his  power  to 
lend  me  whatever  I  wanted.  I  was  so  struck  with  this 
instance  of  generosity  and  friendship  in  such  a  person, 
that  I  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  pressing  me  a  second 
time  before  I  made  him  an  answer.  Indeed,  I  was 
greatly  surprised  how  he  came  to  be  worth  that  little 
sum,  and  no  less  at  his  being  acquainted  with  my  own 
wants ;  in  both  which  points  he  presently  satisfied  me. 
As  to  the  first,  it  seems,  he  had  plundered  a  Spanish  ofR- 


i08  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

cer  of  fifteen  pistoles ;  and  as  to  the  second,  he  confessed 
he  had  it  from  my  wife's  maid,  who  had  overheard  some 
discourse  between  her  mistress  and  me.  Indeed,  peo- 
ple, I  believe,  always  deceive  themselves,  who  imagine 
they  can  conceal  distressed  circumstances  from  their 
servants ;  for  these  are  always  extremely  quick-sighted 
on  such  occasions." 

"  Good  Heaven  !"  cries  Miss  Matthews :  "  how  aston- 
ishing is  such  behaviour  in  so  low  a  fellow  !" 

"  I  thought  so  myself,"  answered  Booth ;  "  and  yet  I 
know  not,  on  a  more  strict  examination  into  the  matter, 
why  we  should  be  more  surprised  to  see  greatness  of 
mind  discover  itself  in  one  degree  or  rank  of  life,  than 
m  another.  Love,  benevolence,  or  what  you  will  please 
to  call  it,  may  be  the  reigning  passion  m  a  beggar  as 
well  as  in  a  prince  ;  and  wherever  it  is,  its  energies  will 
be  the  same. 

"  To  confess  the  truth,  I  am  afraid  we  often  compli- 
ment what  we  call  upper  life,  with  too  much  injustice, 
at  the  expense  of  the  lower.  As  it  is  no  rare  thing  to 
see  instances  which  degrade  human  nature  in  persons  of 
the  highest  birth  and  education,  so  I  apprehend,  that  ex- 
amples of  whatever  is  really  great  and  good  have  been 
sometimes  found  among  those  who  have  wanted  all  such 
advantages.  In  reality,  palaces,  I  make  no  doubt,  do 
sometimes  contain  nothing  but  dreariness  and  darkness, 
and  the  sun  of  righteousness  has  shone  forth  with  all  its 
glory  in  a  cottage." 


Chapter  VIII.— The  story  of  Booth  continued. 

Mr.  Booth  thus  went  on  : — 

"We  now  took  leave  of  the  garrison,  and  having 
landed  at  Marseilles,  arrived  at  Montpelier,  without  any 
thing  happening  to  us  worth  remembrance,  except  the 
extreme  sea-sickness  of  poor  Amelia :  but  I  was  after- 
ward well  repaid  for  the  terrors  which  it  occasioned 
me,  by  the  good  consequences  which  attended  it ;  for 
I  believe  it  contributed,  even  more  than  the  air  of  Mont- 
pelier, to  the  perfect  re-establishment  of  her  health." 

"  I  ask  your  pardon  for  interrupting  you,"  cries  Miss 
Matthews,  "but  you  never  satisfied  me  whether  you 


i 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA,  109 

took  the  sergeant's  money :  you  have  made  me  half  in 
love  with  that  charming  fellow." 

"  How  can  you  imagine,  madam,"  answered  Booth, 
« I  should  have  taken  from  a  poor  fellow  what  was  of 
so  little  consequence  to  me,  and  at  the  same  time  of  so 
much  to  him  i  Perhaps,  now,  you  will  derive  this  from 
the  passion  of  pride." 

"  Indeed,"  says  she,  *'  I  neither  derive  it  from  the  pas- 
sion of  pride,  nor  from  the  passion  of  folly :  but  methinks 
you  should  have  accepted  the  offer ;  and  I  am  convinced 
you  hurt  him  very  much  when  you  refused  it :  but  pray 
proceed  in  yoiir  story."  Then  Booth  went  on  as  fol- 
lows;— 

"As  Amelia  recovered  her  health  and  spirits  daily, 
we  began  to  pass  our  time  very  pleasantly  at  Montpe- 
lier;  for  the  greatest  enemy  to  the  French  will  ac- 
knowledge, that  they  are  the  best  people  in  the  world 
to  live  among  for  a  little  while.  In  some  countries  it 
is  almost  as  easy  to  get  a  good  estate  as  a  good  ac- 
iquaintance.  In  England,  particularly,  acquaintance  is 
of  almost  as  slow  growth  as  an  oak ;  so  that  the  age  of 
man  scarce  suffices  to  bring  it  to  any  perfection,  and 
ifamilies  seldom  contract  any  great  intimacy  till  the 
third,  or  at  least  the  second  generation.  So  shy  indeed 
are  v^e  English  of  letting  a  stranger  into  our  houses, 
that  one  would  imagine  we  regarded  all  such  as  thieves* 
Now  the  French  are  the  very  reverse :  being  a  stranger 
among  them  entitles  you  to  the  better  place,  and  to 
the  greater  degree  of  civility  ;  and  if  you  wear  but  the 
appearance  of  a  gentleman,  they  never  suspect  you  are 
not  one.  Their  friendship  indeed  seldom  extends  so 
far  as  their  purse ;  nor  is  such  friendship  usual  in  other 
countries.  To  say  the  truth,  politeness  carries  friend- 
ship far  enough  in  the  ordinary  occasions  of  life,  and 
those  who  want  this  accomplishment  rarely  make 
iamends  for  it  by  their  sincerity  ;  for  bluntness,  or  rather 
rudeness,  as  it  commonly  deserves  to  be  called,  is  not 
always  so  much  a  mark  of  honesty  as  it  is  taken  to 
be. 

"The  day  after  our  arrival  we  became  acquainted 
with  Mons.  Bagillard :  he  was  a  Frenchman  of  great 
wit  and  vivacity,  with  a  greater  share  of  learning  than 
gentlemen  are  usually  possessed  of.  As  he  lodged  in 
the  same  house  with  us,  we  were  immediately  acquaint- 
ed, and  I  liked  his  conversation  so  well,  that  I  never 
10 


110  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

thouglit  I  had  too  much  of  his  company.  Indeed,  I 
spent  so  much  of  my  time  with  him,  that  Ameha  (I 
know  not  whether  I  ou^ht  to  mention  it)  grew  uneasy 
at  our  familiarity,  and  com.plained  of  my  being  too  little 
with  her,  from  my  violent  fondness  of  my  new  acquaint- 
ance ;  for  our  conversation  turning  chiefly  upon  books, 
and  principally  Latin  ones,  (for  we  read  several  of  the 
classics  together,)  she  could  have  but  little  entertain- 
ment by  being  with  us.  When  my  wife  had  once  taken 
it  into  her  head  that  she  was  deprived  of  my  company 
by  Mons.  Bagillard,  it  was  impossible  to  change  her 
opinion ;  and  though  I  now  spent  more  of  my  time  with 
her  than  I  had  ever  done  before,  she  still  grew  more 
and  more  dissatisfied,  till,  at  last,  she  very  earnestly  de- 
sired me  to  quit  my  lodgings,  and  insisted  upon  it  with 
more  vehemence  than  I  had  ever  known  her  express 
before.  To  say  the  truth,  if  that  excellent  woman 
could  ever  be  thought  unreasonable,  I  thought  she  was 
so  on  this  occasion. 

"  But,  in  what  light  soever  her  desires  appeared  to 
me,  as  they  manifestly  arose  from  an  affection  of  which 
I  had  daily  the  most  endearing  proofs,  I  resolved  to 
comply  with  her,  and  accordingly  removed  to  a  distant 
part  of  the  town  ;  for  it  is  my  opinion,  that  we  can  have 
but  little  love  for  the  person  whom  we  will  never  in- 
dulge in  an  unreasonable  demand.  Indeed,  I  was  under 
a  difiiculty  with  regard  to  Mons.  Bagillard  ;  for,  as  I 
could  not  possibly  communicate  to  him  the  true  rea- 
son for  quitting  my  lodgings,  so  1  found  it  as  difficult 
to  deceive  him  by  a  counterfeit  one ;  besides,  I  was  ap- 
prehensive I  should  have  little  less  of  his  company  than 
before.  I  could,  indeed,  have  avoided  this  dilemma  by 
quitting  ^Nlontpelier,  for  A-melia  had  perfectly  recovered 
her  health  ;  but  I  had  faithfully  promised  Captain  James 
to  wait  his  return  from  Italy,  whither  he  was  gone  some 
time  before  from  Gibraltar ;  nor  was  it  proper  for  Amelia 
to  take  any  long  journey,  she  being  now  near  six  months 
gone  with  child. 

"  This  difficulty,  however,  proved  to  be  less  than  I 
had  imagined  it ;  for  my  French  friend,  whether  he  sus- 
pected any  thing  from  my  wife's  behaviour,  though  she 
never,  as  I  observed,  showed  him  the  least  incivility, 
became  suddenly  as  cold  on  his  side.  After  our  leaving 
the  lodgings,  he  never  made  above  two  or  three  formal 
visits ;  indeed,  his  time  was  soon  after  entirely  taken 


THE    HISTORY  OP    AT»IELIA,  IH 

xip  by  an  intrigue  with  a  certain  countess,  which  blazed 
ail  over  Montpelier. 

"  We  had  not  been  long  in  our  new  apartments,  before 
an  English  officer  arrived  at  Montpelier,  and  came  to 
lodge  in  the  same  house  with  us.  This  gentleman, 
whose  name  was  Bath,  was  of  the  rank  of  a  major,  and 
had  so  much  singularity  in  his  character,  that,  perhaps, 
you  never  heard  of  any  like  him.  He  was  far  from 
having  any  of  those  bookish  qualifications  which  had 
before  caused  my  Amelia's  disquiet.  It  is  true,  his  dis- 
course generally  turned  on  matters  of  no  feminine  kind  ; 
war  and  martial  exploits  being  the  ordinary  topics  of 
his  conversation:  however,  as  he  had  a  sister,  with 
whom  Amelia  was  greatly  pleased,  an  intimacy  presently 
grew  between  us,  and  we  four  lived  in  one  family. 

'*  The  major  was  a  great  dealer  in  the  marvellous, 
and  was  constantly  the  little  hero  of  his  own  tale.  This 
made  him  very  entertaining  to  Amelia,  who,  of  all  per- 
sons in  the  world,  has  the  truest  taste  and  enjoyment 
Gf  the  ridiculous ;  for  while  no  one  sooner  discovers  it 
in  the  character  of  another,  no  one  so  well  conceals  her 
knowledge  of  it  from  the  ridiculous  person.  1  cannot 
help  mentioning  a  sentiment  of  hers  on  this  head,  as  I 
think  it  does  her  great  honour.  '  If  I  had  the  same  con- 
tempt,' said  she/  for  ridiculous  people  with  the  generality 
of  the  world,  I  should  rather  think  them  the  objects  of 
t-ears  than  laughter  ;  but,  in  reality,  I  have  known  several, 
who  in  some  parts  of  their  characters  have  been  ex- 
tremely ridiculous,  in  others  have  been  altogether  as 
amiable.  For  instance,'  said  she,  '  here  is  the  major,  vvho 
tells  us  of  many  things  which  he  has  never  seen,  and  of 
ethers  which  he  has  never  done,  and  both  in  the  most 
extravagant  excess ;  and  yet  how  amiable  is  his  beha- 
viour to  his  poor  sister,  whom  he  has  not  only  brought 
over  hither  for  her  health,  at  his  own  expense,  but  is 
come  to  bear  her  company  !'  I  believe,  madam,  1  repeat 
her  very  words  :  for  I  am  very  apt  to  remember  whaj; 
she  says. 

"  You  will  easily  believe,  from  a  circumstance  I  have 
jUst  mentioned  in  the  major's  favour,  especially  when  I 
have  told  you  that  his  sister  was  one  of  the  best  of  girls, 
that  it  was  entirely  necessary  to  hide  from  her  all  kind 
of  laughter  at  any  part  of  her  brother's  behaviour.  To 
Gay  the  truth,  this  was  easy  enough  to  do  ;  for  the  poor 
girl  was  so  bhnded  with  love  and  gratitude,  and  so  highly 


il2  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

honoured  and  reverenced  her  brother,  that  she  had  not 
the  least  suspicion  that  there  was  a  person  in  the  world 
capable  of  laughing  at  him. 

"  Indeed,  I  am  certain  she  never  made  the  least  disco- 
very of  our  ridicule,  for  I  am  well  convinced  she  would 
'aave  resented  it ;  for,  besides  the  love  she  bore  her  bro- 
ther, she  had  a  little  family  pride,  which  would  some- 
times appear.  To  say  the  truth,  if  she  had  any  fault,  it 
was  that  of  vanity  :  but  she  was  a  very  good  girl  upon 
the  whole  ;  and  none  of  us  are  entirely  free  from  faults." 

"  You  are  a  good-natured  fellow,  Will,"  answered 
Miss  Matthews  ;  *"  but  vanity  is  a  fault  of  the  first  majg- 
iiitude  in  a  woman,  and  often  the  occasion  of  many 
others."  To  this  Booth  made  no  answer,  but  continued 
his  story. 

"  In  this  company  we  passed  two  or  three  months 
very  agreeably,  till  the  major  and  I  both  betook  our- 
selves to  our  several  nurseries  ;  my  wife  being  brought 
to  bed  of  a  girl,  and  Miss  Bath  confined  to  her  chamber 
by  a  surfeit,  which  had  like  to  have  occasioned  her 
death." 

Here  Miss  Matthews  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  of  which, 
when  Booth  asked  the  reason,  she  said,  she  could  not 
forbear  at  the  thoughts  of  two  such  nurses.  "  And  did 
you  really,"  says  she,  "  make  your  wife's  caudle  your- 
self?^' 

*'  Indeed,  madam,"  said  he,  "  I  did  :  and  do  you  think 
that  so  extraordinary  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  answered  she :  "  I  thought  the  best 
husbands  had  looked  on  their  wives'^  lying-in  as  a  time 
of  festival  and  jollity.  What  1  did  you  not  even  get 
drunk  in  the  time  of  your  wife's  delivery  ?  Tell  lae 
honestly  how  you  employed  yourself  at  this  tinae." 

"Why,  then,  honestly,'^  rephed  he,  "-and  in  defiance 
of  your  laughter,  I  lay  behind  the  bolster,  and  supported 
her  in  ray  arms ;  and,  upon  my  soul,  I  believe  I  felt  more 
pain  in  my  mind  than  she  underwent  in  her  body.  And 
now  answer  me  as  honestly  ;  do  you  really  think  it  a 
proper  time  of  mirth,  when  the  creature  one  loves  to 
distraction  is  tmdergoing  the  most  racking  torraents,  as 
well  as  in  the  most  imminent  danger?  and — but  I  need 
not  express  any  more  tender  circumstances." 

"  I  am  to  answer  honestly  >"  cried  she^  "  Yes,  and 
sincerely,"   cries  Booth.      "  Why,  then,  honestly  and 


THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA.  113 

sincerely,"  says  she,  "may  I  never  see  heaven,  if  I 
don't  think  you  an  angel  of  a  man." 

"  Nay,  madam,"  answered  Booth,  '<  but,  indeed,  you 
do  me  too  much  honour :  there  are  many  such  husbands : 
nay,  have  we  not  an  example  of  the  like  tenderness  iii 
the  major  ?  though,  as  to  him,  I  believe,  I  shall  make 
you  laugh.  While  my  wife  lay  in,  Miss  Bath  being  ex- 
tremely ill,  I  went  one  day  to  the  door  of  her  apartment 
to  inquire  after  her  health,  as  well  as  for  the  major, 
whom  I  had  not  seen  during  a  whole  week.  I  knocked 
softly  at  the  door,  and  being  bid  to  open  it,  I  found  the 
major  in  his  sister's  antechamber,  warming  her  posset. 
His  dress  was  certainly  whimsical  enough,  having  on  a 
woman's  bedgown,  and  a  very  dirty  flannel  nightcap, 
which,  being  added  to  a  very  odd  person,  (for  he  was 
a  very  awkward,  thin  man,  near  seven  feet  higli,)  might 
have  formed,  in  the  opinion  of  most  men,  a  very  proper 
object  of  laughter.  The  major  started  from  his  seat  at 
my  entering  into  the  room,  and  with  much  emotion,  and 
a  great  oath,  cried  out,  '  Is  it  you,  sir  ?'  I  then  inquired 
after  his  and  his  sister's  health.  He  answered,  that  his 
sister  was  better,  and  he  was  very  well :  '  though  I  did 
not  expect,  sir,'  cried  he,  with  not  a  little  confusion,  '  to 
be  seen  by  you  in  this  situation.'  I  told  him,  I  thought 
it  impossible  he  could  appear  in  a  situation  more  becom- 
ing his  character.  '  You  do  not  ?'  answered  he.  '  By  G — 
I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  that  opinion ;  but,  I 
believe,  sir,  however  my  weakness  may  prevail  on  me 
to  descend  from  it,  no  man  can  be  more  conscious  of  his 
own  dignity  than  myself.'  His  sister  then  called  to  him 
from  the  inner  room  ;  upon  which  he  rang  the  bell  for 
her  servant;  and  then,  after  a  stride  or  two  across  the 
room,  he  said,  with  an  elated  aspect,  '  I  would  not  have 
you  think,  Mr.  Booth,  because  you  have  caught  me  in 
this  dishabille,  by  coming  upon  me  a  little  too  abruptly, 
— I  cannot  help  saying  a  little  too  abruptly, — that  I  am 
my  sister's  nurse.  I  know  better  what  is  due  to  the 
dignity  of  a  man,  and  I  have  shown  it  in  a  line  of  battle. 
I  think  I  have  made  a  figure  there,  Mr.  Booth,  and  be- 
coming my  character  :  by  G —  I  ought  not  to  be  despised 
too  much,  if  my  nature  is  not  totally  without  its  weak- 
nesses.' He  uttered  this,  and  some  more  of  the  same 
kind,  with  great  majesty,  or,  as  he  called  it,  dignity. 
Indeed,  he  used  some  hard  words  that  1  did  not  under- 
staRd  ;  for  all  his  words  are  not  to  be  found  in  a  dic- 
10* 


114  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

tionary.  Upon  the  whole,  I  could  not  easily  refram 
from  laughter :  however,  I  conquered  myself,  and  soon 
after  retired  from  him,  astonished  that  it  was  possible 
for  a  man  to  possess  true  goodness,  and  be,  at  the  same 
time,  ashamed  of  it. 

"  But,  if  I  was  surprised  at  what  had  passed  at  this 
visit,  how  much  more  was  I  surprised  the  n€xt  morning, 
when  he  came  very  early  to  my  chamber,  and  told  me 
he  had  not  been  able  to  sleep  one  wink  at  what  had 
passed  between  us  I  '  There  were  some  words  of  yours,* 
says  he,  'which  must  be  farther  explained  before  we 
part.  You  told  nie,  sir,  when  you  found  me  in  that 
situation,  which  I  cannot  bear  to  recollect,  that  you 
thought  I  could  not  appear  in  one  more  becoming  my 
character:  these  were  the  words;  I  shall  never  forget 
them.  Do  you  imagine  that  there  is  any  of  the  dignity 
of  a  man  wanting  in  my  character?  do  you  think  that 
I  have,  during  my  sister's  illness,  behaved  with  a  weak- 
ness that  savours  too  much  of  effeminacy  ?  I  know 
how  much  it  is  beneath  a  man  to  v/hine  and  whimper 
about  a  trifling  girl  as  well  as  you  or  any  man ;  and  if 
my  sister  had  died,  I  should  have  behaved  like  a  man  on 
the  occasion :  I  would  not  have  you  think  I  confined 
myself  from  company  merely  upon  her  account :  I  was 
very  much  disordered  myself;  and,  when  you  surprised 
me  in  that  situation — I  repeat  again,  in  that  situation — 
her  nurse  had  not  left  the  room  three  minutes,  and  1 
was  blowing  the  fire  for  fear  it  should  have  gone  out.* 
In  this  manner  he  ran  on  almost  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
before  he  would  suffer  me  to  speak.  At  last,  looking 
steadfastly  in  his  face,  I  asked  him,  if  I  must  conclude 
that  he  was  in  earnest.  '  In  earnest,'  says  he,  repeating 
my  words  :  '  do  you  then  take  my  character  for  a  jest  V 
*  Lookee,  sir,'  said  I,  very  gravely, '  I  think  we  know  one 
another  very  well ;  and  I  have  no  reason  to  suspect  you 
should  impute  it  to  fear,  when  I  tell  you,  I  was  so  far 
from  intending  to  affront  you,  that  I  meant  you  one  of 
the  highest  compliments.  Tenderness  for  women  is  so 
far  from  lessening,  that  it  proves  a  true  manly  character 
The  manly  Brutus  showed  the  utmost  tenderness  to  his 
Portia  ;  and  the  great  king  of  Sweden,  the  bravest,  and 
even  fiercest  of  men,  shut  himself  up  three  whole  days 
in  the  midst  of  a  campaign,  and  would  see  no  company, 
on  the  death  of  a  favourite  sister.'  At  these  words,  I 
saw  his  features  soften  ;  and  he  cried  out, '  D — n  me,  I 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  115 

admire  the  King  of  Sweden  of  all  the  men  in  the  world  ; 
and  he  is  a  rascal  that  is  ashamed  of  doing  anything 
which  the  King  of  Sweden  did.  And  yet,  if  any  king 
of  Sweden  in  France  was  to  tell  me  that  his  sister  had 
more  merit  than  mine,  by  G —  I'd  knock  his  brains 
about  his  ears.  Poor  little  Betsey  !  she  is  the  honestest, 
worthiest  girl  that  ever  was  born.  Heaven  be  praised, 
she  is  recovered  ;  for  if  I  had  lost  her,  I  never  should 
have  enjoyed  another  happy  moment.'  In  this  manner 
he  ran  on  some  time,  till  the  tears  began  to  overflow ; 
which,  when  he  perceived,  he  stopped  ;  perhaps  he  was 
unable  to  go  on  ;  for  he  seemed  almost  choked  :  after  a 
short  silence,  however,  having  wiped  his  eyes  with  his 
handkerchief,  he  fetched  a  deep  sigh,  and  cried,  '  I  am 
ashamed  you  should  see  this,  Mr.  Booth  ;  but,  d — n  me, 
nature  will  get  the  better  of  dignity.'  I  now  comforted 
him  with  the  example  of  Xerxes,  as  I  had  before  done 
with  that  of  the  King  of  Sweden  ;  and  soon  after  we  sat 
down  to  breakfast  together  with  much  cordial  friendship  ; 
for  I  assure  you,  with  all  his  oddity,  there  is  not  a  bet- 
ter-natured  man  in  the  world  than  the  major," 

"  Good-natured,  indeed  !"  cries  Miss  Matthews,  with 
great  scorn  :  "  a  fool !  how  can  you  mention  such  a  fel- 
low with  commendation]" 

Booth  spoke  as  much  as  he  could  in  defence  of  his 
friend :  indeed,  he  had  represented  him  in  as  favourable 
a  light  as  possible,  and  had  particularly  left  out  those 
hard  words,  with  which,  as  he  has  observed  a  little  before, 
the  major  interlarded  his  discourse.  Booth  then  pro- 
ceeded, as  in  the  next  chapter. 


Chapter  IX. — Containing  very  extraordinary  matters. 

"Miss  Bath,"  continued  Booth,  "  now  recovered  so 
fast,  that  she  was  abroad  as  soon  as  my  wife :  our  little 
partie  quarree  began  to  grow  agreeable  again ;  and  we 
mixed  with  the  company  of  the  place  more  than  we  had 
done  before.  Mons.  Bagillard  now  again  renewed  his 
intimacy,  for  the  countess,  his  mistress,  was  gone  to 
Paris  ;  at  which  my  wife,  at  first,  showed  no  dissatis- 
faction ;  and  I  imagined,  that,  as  she  had  a  friend  and 
companion  of  her  own  sex,  (for  Miss  Bath  and  she  had 
contracted  the  highest  fondness  for  each  other,)  that  she 


116  THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA. 

would  the  less  miss  my  company.  However,  I  was 
disappointed  in  this  expectation  ;  for  she  soon  began  to 
express  her  former  uneasiness,  and  her  impatience  for 
the  arrival  of  Captain  James,  that  we  might  entirely  quit 
Montpelier. 

"  I  could  not  avoid  conceiving  some  little  displeasure 
at  this  humour  of  my  wife,  which  I  was  forced  to  think 
a  little  unreasonable."  "  A  little,  do  you  call  it  V  says 
Miss  Matthews  :  "  good  Heavens  !  what  a  husband  are 
you!"  "How  little  worthy,"  answered  he,  "as  you 
will  say  hereafter,  of  such  a  wife  as  my  Amelia.  One 
day,  as  we  were  sitting  together,  I  heard  a  violent 
scream  ;  upon  which  my  wife,  starting  up,  cried  out, 
'  Sure  that's  Miss  Bath's  voice  !'  and  immediately  ran  to- 
wards the  chamber  whence  it  proceeded.  I  followed 
her ;  and  when  we  arrived,  we  there  beheld  the  most 
shocking  sight  imaginable  ;  Miss  Bath  lying  dead  on  the 
floor,  and  the  major  all  bloody,  kneeling  by  her  and 
roaring  out  for  assistance.  Amelia,  though  she  was 
herself  in  little  better  condition  than  her  friend,  ran  hast- 
ily to  her,  bared  her  neck,  and  attempted  to  loosen  her 
stays,  while  I  ran  up  and  down,  scarce  knowing  what  I 
did,  calling  for  water  and  cordials,  and  despatching 
several  servants,  one  after  another,  for  doctors  and  sur- 
geons. 

**  Water,  cordials,  and  all  necessary  implements  being 
brought,  Miss  Bath  was  at  length  recovered,  and  placed 
in  her  chair,  when  the  major  seated  himself  by  her. 
And  now,  the  young  lady  being  restored  to  life,  the 
major,  who,  till  then,  had  engaged  as  little  of  his  own 
as  of  any  other  person's  attention,  became  the  object  of 
all  our  considerations,  especially  his  poor  sister's,  who 
had  no  sooner  recovered  sufficient  strength,  than  she 
began  to  lament  her  brother,  crying  out,  that  he  was 
killed,  and  bitterly  bewailing  her  fate,  in  having  revived 
from  her  swoon  to  behold  so  dreadful  a  spectacle. 
While  Amelia  applied  herself  to  sooth  the  agonies  of 
her  friend,  I  began  to  inquire  into  the  condition  of  the 
major,  in  which  I  was  assisted  by  a  surgeon,  who  now 
arrived.  The  major  declared,  with  great  cheerfulness, 
that  he  did  not  apprehend  his  wound  to  be  in  the  least 
dangerous,  and  therefore  begged  his  sister  to  be  com- 
forted, saying,  he  was  convinced  the  surgeon  would  soon 
give  her  the  same  assurance:  but  that  good  man  was 
jiot  so  liberal  of  assurances  as  the  major  had  expected ; 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  117 

for,  as  soon  as  he  had  probed  the  wound,  he  afforded  no 
more  than  hopes,  declaring  that  it  was  a  very  ugly- 
wound  ;  but  added,  by  way  of  consolation,  that  he  had 
cured  many  much  worse. 

"  When  the  major  was  dressed,  his  sister  seemed  to 
possess  his  whole  thoughts,  and  all  his  care  was  to  re- 
lieve her  grief.  He  solemnly  protested  that  it  was  no 
more  than  a  flesh-wound,  and  not  very  deep,  nor  could, 
as  he  apprehended,  be  in  the  least  dangerous ;  and  as  for 
the  cold  expressions  of  the  surgeon,  he  very  well  ac- 
counted for  them  from  a  motive  too  obvious  to  be  men- 
tioned. From  these  declarations  of  her  brother,  and  the 
interposition  of  her  friends,  and,  above  all,  1  beheve, 
from  that  vast  vent  which  she  had  given  to  her  fright, 
Miss  Bath  seemed  a  little  pacified :  Amelia,  therefore, 
at  last  prevailed  ;  and  as  terror  abated,  curiosity  became 
the  superior  passion.  I  therefore  now  began  to  inquire 
what  had  occasioned  that  accident  whence  all  the  uproar 
arose. 

"  The  major  took  me  by  the  hand,  and,  looking  very 
kindly  at  me,  said,  '  My  dear  Mr.  Booth,  I  must  begin  by 
asking  your  pardon  ;  for  I  have  done  you  an  injury,  for 
which  nothing  but  the  height  of  friendship  in  me  can  be 
an  excuse,  and,  therefore,  nothing  but  the  height  of 
friendship  in  you  can  forgive.'  This  preamble,  madam, 
you  will  easily  believe,  greatly  alarmed  all  the  company, 
but  especially  me.  I  answered,  '  Dear  major,  1  forgive 
you,  let  it  be  what  it  will;  but  what  is  it  possible  you 
can  have  done  to  injure  me  V  *  That,'  replied  he, '  which  I 
am  convinced  a  man  of  your  honour  and  dignity  of  na- 
ture, by  G — ,  must  conclude  to  be  one  of  the  highest 
injuries.  I  have  taken  out  of  your  own  hands  the  doing 
yourself  justice.  1  am  afraid  I  have  killed  the  man  who 
has  injured  your  honour — I  mean  that  villain,  Bagillard  : 
but  1  cannot  proceed ;  for  you,  madam,'  said  he  to  my 
wife,  '  are  concerned  ;  and  I  know  what  is  due  to  the 
dignity  of  your  sex.'  Amelia,  1  observed,  turned  pale  at 
these  words,  but  eagerly  begged  him  to  proceed.  '  Nay, 
madam,'  answered  he,  '  if  1  am  commanded  by  a  lady,  it 
is  a  part  of  my  dignity  to  obey.'  He  then  proceeded  to 
tell  us,  that  Bagillard  had  rallied  him  upon  a  supposition 
that  he  was  pursuing  my  wife  with  a  view  of  gallantry, 
telling  him  that  he  could  never  succeed ;  giving  hints, 
that,  if  it  had  been  possible,  he  should  have  succeeded 
himself;  and  ended  with  calling  my  poor  Amelia  an 


118  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

accomplished  prude  ;  upon  which  the  major  gave  Bagil- 
lard  a  box  on  the  ear,  and  both  immediately  drew  their 
swords. 

"  The  major  had  scarce  ended  his  speech,  when  a 
servant  came  into  the  room,  and  told  me  there  was  a 
friar  below,  who  desired  to  speak  with  me  in  great  haste. 
I  shook  the  major  by  the  hand,  and  told  him  T  not  only 
forgave  him,  but  was  extremely  obHged  to  his  friend- 
ship ;  and  then,  going  to  the  friar,  1  found  that  he  was 
Bagillard's  confessor,  from  whom  he  came  to  me,  with 
an  earnest  desire  of  seeing  me,  that  he  might  ask  my 
pardon,  and  receive  my  forgiveness  before  he  died,  for 
the  injury  he  had  intended  me.  My  wife  at  first  opposed 
my  going,  from  some  sudden  fears  on  my  account ;  but, 
when  she  was  convinced  they  were  groundless,  she  con- 
sented. 

"  I  found  Bagillard  in  his  bed ;  for  the  major's  sword 
had  passed  up  to  the  very  hilt  through  his  body.  After 
having  very  earnestly  asked  my  pardon,  he  made  me 
many  compliments  on  the  possession  of  a  woman,  who, 
joined  to  the  most  exquisite  beauty,  was  mistress  of  the 
most  impregnable  virtue,  as  a  proof  of  which,  he  ac- 
knowledged the  vehemence  as  well  as  ill  success  of  his 
attempts ;  and,  to  make  Amelia's  virtue  appear  the 
brighter,  his  vanity  was  so  predominant,  he  could  not 
forbear  running  over  the  names  of  several  women  of 
fashion  who  had  yielded  to  his  passion,  which,  he  said, 
had  never  raged  so  violently  for  any  other  as  for  my 
poor  A  melia ;  and  that  this  violence,  which  he  had  found 
wholly  unconquerable,  he  hoped  would  procure  his  par- 
don at  my  hands.  It  is  unnecessary  to  mention  what  I 
said  on  this  occasion.  I  assured  him  of  my  entire  for- 
giveness ;  and  so  we  parted.  To  say  the  truth,  I  after- 
ward thought  myself  almost  obliged  to  him  for  a  meet- 
ing with  Amelia,  the  most  luxuriously  delicate  that  can 
be  imagined. 

"  I  now  ran  to  my  wife,  whom  I  embraced  with  rap- 
tures of  love  and  tenderness.  When  the  first  torrent 
of  these  was  a  little  abated,  '  Confess  to  me,  my  dear,' 
said  she  ;  '  could  your  goodness  prevent  you  from  think- 
ing me  a  little  unreasonable  in  expressing  so  much  un- 
easiness at  the  loss  of  your  company,  while  1  ought  to 
have  rejoiced  in  the  thoughts  of  your  being  so  well  en- 
tertained ]  I  know  you  must;  and  then  consider  what 
I  must  have  felt,  while  I  knew  I  was  daily  lessening 


1 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  119 

myself  in  your  esteem,  and  forced  into  a  conduct,  which 
I  WHS  sensible  must  appear  to  you,  who  was  ijrnorant 
of  my  motive,  to  be  mean,  vulgar,  and  selfish.  AikI  yet, 
what  other  course  had  1  to  take  with  a  man,  whom  no 
denial,  no  scorn  could  abash  ]  But  if  this  was  a  cruel 
task,  how  much  more  wretched  still  was  the  constraint 
1  was  obliged  to  wear  in  his  presence  before  you  ;  to 
show  outward  civility  to  the  man  whom  my  soul  de- 
tested, for  fear  of  any  fatal  consequence  from  your  sus- 
picion ;  and  this  too,  while  I  was  afraid  he  would  con- 
strue it  to  be  an  encouragement  ?  Do  you  not  pity  your 
poor  Amelia,  when  you  reflect  on  her  situation  ]'  '  Pity  V 
cried  I :  '  my  love,  is  pity  an  adequate  expression  for 
esteem,  for  adoration  ?  But  how,  my  love,  could  he 
carry  this  on  so  secretly  1  by  letters]'  'Oh  no,  he  offered 
me  many ;  but  I  never  would  receive  but  one,  and  that 
I  returned  him.  Good  God !  I  would  not  have  such  a 
letter  in  my  possession  for  the  universe :  I  thought  my 
eyes  contaminated  with  reading  it.'  " 

"  Oh  brave  I"  cried  Miss  Matthews  :  "  heroic,  I  pro- 
test! 

'"  Had  I  a  wish  that  did  not  bear 
The  stamp  and  image  of  my  dear, 
I'd  pierce  my  heart  through  every  vein, 
And  die  to  let  it  out  again.'  " 

"  And  can  you  really,"  cried  he,  "  laugh  at  so  much 
tenderness  V  "  I  laugh  at  tenderness  !  oh,  Mr.  Booth," 
answered  she,  "  thou  knowest  but  little  of  Calista." 
"I  thought  formerly,"  cried  he,  "I  knew  a  great  deal; 
and  thought  you,  of  all  women  in  the  world,  to  have 
the  greatest — "  "  Of  all  women  ?  Take  care,  Mr.  Booth," 
said  she  :  "  by  Heaven  !  if  you  thought  so,  you  thought 
truly.  But  what  is  the  object  of  my  tenderness?  such 
an  object  as — "  "  Well,  madam,"  says  he,  "  I  hope  you 
will  find  one."  "I  thank  you  for  that  hope,  however," 
says  she,  "cold  as  it  is.  But  pray  go  on  with  your 
story;"  which  command  he  immediately  obeyed. 


Chapter  X. — Containing  a  letter  of  a  very  curious  kind. 

"  The  majors  wound,"  continued  Booth,  "  was  really 
as  slight  as  he  believed  it,  so  that  in  a  very  few  days 
he  ivas  perfectly  well ;  nor  was  Bagillard,  though  run 


120  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

through  the  body,  long  apprehended  to  be  in  any  danger 
of  his  life.  The  major  then  took  me  aside,  and  wish- 
ing me  heartily  joy  of  Bagillard's  recovery,  told  me,  I 
should  now,  by  the  gift  (as  it  were)  of  Heaven,  have  an 
opportunity  of  doing  myself  justice.  I  answered,  I 
could  not  think  of  any  such  thing ;  for  that,  when  I 
imagined  he  was  on  his  deathbed,  I  had  heartily  and 
sincerely  forgiven  him.  '  Very  right,'  replied  the  major, 
'  and  consistent  with  your  honour,  when  he  was  on  his 
deathbed ;  but  that  forgiveness  was  only  conditional, 
and  is  revoked  by  his  recovery.'  I  told  him,  I  could  not 
possibly  revoke  it ;  for  that  my  anger  was  really  gone. 
•  What  has  anger,'  cried  he,  '  to  do  with  the  matter  ] 
The  dignity  of  my  nature  has  been  always  my  reason 
for  drawing  my  sword  ;  and  when  that  is  concerned,  I 
can  as  readily  fight  with  the  man  I  love  as  with  the  man 
I  hate.'  I  will  not  tire  you  with  the  repetition  of  the 
whole  argimient,  in  which  the  major  did  not  prevail ; 
and  I  really  believe  I  sunk  a  little  in  his  esteem  upon 
that  account,  till  Captain  James,  who  arrived  soon  after, 
again  perfectly  reinstated  me  in  his  favour. 

"  When  the  captain  was  come,  there  remained  no 
cause  of  our  longer  stay  at  Montpelier ;  for  as  to  my 
wife,  she  was  in  a  better  state  of  health  than  I  had 
ever  known  her ;  and  Miss  Bath  had  not  only  recov- 
ered her  health,  but  her  bloom  ;  and  from  a  pale  skele- 
ton, was  become  a  plump,  handsome  young  woman. 
James  was  again  my  cashier ;  for,  far  from  receiving 
any  remittance,  it  was  now  a  long  time  since  1  had  re- 
ceived any  letter  from  England,  though  both  myself  and 
my  dear  Amelia  had  written  several  both  to  my  mother 
and  sister :  and  now,  at  our  departure  from  Montpelier^ 
I  bethought  myself  of  writing  to  my  good  friend  the  doc- 
tor, acquainting  him  with  our  journey  to  Paris,  whither 
I  desired  he  would  direct  his  answer. 

"  At  Paris  we  all  arrived,  without  encountering  any 
adventure  on  the  road  worth  relating  ;  nor  did  anything 
of  consequence  happen  here  during  the  first  fortnight; 
for  as  you  know  neither  Captain  James  nor  Miss  Bath, 
it  is  scarce  worth  telling  you  that  an  affection,  which 
afterward  ended  in  a  marriage,  began  now  to  appear 
between  them,  in  which  it  may  appear  odd  to  you  that 
I  made  the  first  discovery  of  the  lady's  flame,  and  my 
wife  of  the  captain's. 

"  The  seventeenth  day  after  our  arrival  at  Paris,  I 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  12] 

received  a  letter  from  the  doctor,  which  I  have  in  my 
pocketbook ;  and  if  you  please  I  will  read  it  to  you; 
for  I  would  not  willingly  do  any  injury  to  his  words." 

The  lady,  you  may  easily  believe,  desired  to  hear  the 
letter,  and  Booth  read  it  as  follows  : — 

"My  Dear  Children, 
"  For  I  will  now  call  you  so,  as  you  have  neither  of  you  now  any  other 
parent  in  this  world  Of  this  melancholy  news  1  should  have  sent 
you  earlier  notice,  if  I  had  thought  you  ignorant  of  H,  or,  indeed,  if 
1  had  known  whither  to  have  written.  Jf  your  sister  has  received 
any  letters  from  you,  she  has  kept  them  a  secret ;  and,  perhaps,  out 
of  affection  to  you,  has  reposited  them  in  the  same  place  where  she 
keeps  her  goodness,  and,  what  I  am  afraid  is  much  dearer  to  her — 
her  money.  The  reports  concerning  you  have  been  various ;  so  is 
always  the  case  in  matters  where  men  are  ignorant :  for  when  no 
man  knows  what  the  truth  is,  every  man  thinks  himself  at  liberty 
to  report  what  he  pleases.  Those  who  wish  you  well,  son  IJooth, 
say  simply  that  you  are  dead  ;  others,  that  you  ran  away  from  the 
siege,  and  was  cashiered.  As  for  my  daughter,  all  agree  that  she  is 
a  saint  above ;  and  there  are  not  wanting  those  who  hint  that  her 
husband  sent  her  thither.  From  this  beginning,  you  will  expect,  I 
suppose,  better  news  than  I  am  going  to  tell  you  ;  but  pray,  my  dear 
children,  why  may  not  I,  who  have  always  laughed  at  my  own  af- 
flictions, laugh  at  yours,  without  the  censure  of  much  malevolence  ? 
I  wish  you  could  learn  this  temper  from  me  ;  for,  take  my  word  for 
it,  nothing  truer  ever  came  from  the  mouth  of  a  heathen,  than  that 
sentence — 

'  Leve  fit,  quod  bene  fertur,  onus.'* 

And  though  I  must  confess  I  never  thought  Aristotle  (whom  I  do 
not  take  for  so  great  a  blockhead  as  some  who  have  never  read  him) 
does  very  well  resolve  the  doubt  which  he  has  raised  in  his  Ethics, 
viz.,  How  a  man,  in  the  midst  of  King  Priam's  misfortunes,  can  be 
called  happy  ''.  yet,  I  have  long  thought  that  there  is  no  calamity  so 
great  that  a  Christian  philosopher  may  not  reasonably  laugh  at  it. 
If  the  heathen  Cicero,  doubting  of  immortality,  (for  so  wise  a  i.ian 
must  have  doubted  of  that  wlilch  had  such  slender  arguments  to 
support  it,)  could  assert  it  as  the  office  of  wisdom,  humanns  res  des- 
picere,  atque  infra  se  positas  arbitrari,\  (which  passage,  with  much 
more  to  the  same  purpose,  you  will  find  in  the  third  book  of  his  'I'us- 
culan  Questions,)  with  how  much  greater  confidence  may  a  good 
Christian  despise,  and  even  deride,  all  temporary  and  short  transi- 
tory evils  !  If  the  poor  wretch,  who  is  trudging  on  to  his  miserable 
cottage,  can  laugh  at  the  storms  and  tempests,  the  rain  and  whirl- 
winds, which  surround  him,  while  his  richest  hope  is  only  that  of 
rest ;  how  much  more  cheerfully  must  a  man  pass  through  such 
transient  evils,  whose  spirits  are  buoyed  up  with  the  certain  expect- 
ation of  finding  a  noble  palace,  and  the  most  sumptuous  entertain- 
ment ready  to  receive  him!  I  do  not  much  hke  the  simile  ;  but  I 
cannot  think  of  a  better.    And  yet,  inadequate  as  the  simile  is,  we 

*  The  burden  becomes  light  by  being  well  borne. 

t  To  look  down  on  all  human  affairs  as  matters  below  his  consideration. 

11  F 


122  THE    HISTORT    OF  AMELIA. 

may,  I  think,  from  the  actions  of  mankind  conclude,  that  they  will 
consider  it  as  much  too  strong;  for,  ni  the  case  I  have  put  of  the 
entertainment,  is  there  any  man  so  tender  or  poor  spirited  as  not  to 
despise,  and  often  to  deride,  the  tiercest  of  those  inclemencies  which 
I  have  mentioned  !  But  in  our  journey  to  the  glorious  mansions  of 
everlasting  bliss,  how  severely  is  every  little  rub,  every  triliing  acci- 
dent lamented  ?  and,  if  Fortune  showers  down  any  of  her  heavier 
storms  upon  us,  how  wretched  do  we  presently  appear  to  ourselves 
and  to  others  !  The  reason  of  this  can  be  no  other  than  that  we  are 
not  in  earnest  in  our  faith  ;  at  the  best,  we  think  with  too  little  at- 
tention on  this  our  great  concern.  While  the  most  paltry  matters 
of  this  world,  even  those  pitiful  trifles,  those  childish  gewgaws, 
riches,  and  honours,  are  transacted  with  the  utmost  earnestness  and 
most  serious  application,  the  grand  and  weighty  affair  of  immortal- 
ity is  postponed  and  disregarded,  nor  ever  brought  into  the  least 
competition  with  our  affairs  here  Jf  one  of  my  cloth  should  begin 
a  discourse  of  Heaven,  in  the  scenes  of  business  or  pleasure,  in  the 
court  of  requests,  at  Garraway's  or  at  White's,  would  he  gain  a 
hearing,  unless,  perhaps,  of  some  sorry  jester,  who  would  desire  to 
ridicule  him?  Would  he  not  presently  acquire  the  name  of  the  mad 
parson,  and  be  thought,  by  all  men,  worthy  of  Bedlam  ?  Or,  would 
he  not  be  treated  as  the  Romans  treated  their  Aretalogi,*  and  con- 
sidered in  the  light  of  a  buflibon  ?  But  why  should  I  mention  those 
places  of  hurry  and  worldly  pursuit '!  What  attention  do  we  engage 
even  in  the  pulpit?  Here,  if  a  sermon  be  prolonged  a  little  beyond 
the  usual  hour,  does  it  nut  set  half  the  audience  asleep  ?  as  I  question 
not  1  have  by  this  time  both  my  children.  Well,  ihen,  like  a  good- 
natured  surgeon,  who  prepares  his  patient  for  a  painful  operation, 
by  endeavouring,  as  much  as  he  can.  to  deaden  his  sensation,  I  will 
now  communicate  to  you,  in  your  slumbering  condition,  the  news 
with  which  1  threatened  you.  Your  good  mother,  you  are  to  know, 
is  dead  at  last,  and  has  left  her  whole  fortune  to  her  elder  daughter  ; 
this  is  ail  the  ill  news  I  have  to  tell  you.  Confess  now,  if  you  are 
awake,  did  you  not  expect  it  was  much  worse  ?  Did  you  not  appre- 
hend that  your  charming  child  was  dead  ? — far  from  it,  he  is  in  per- 
fect health,  and  the  admiration  of  everybody  :  what  is  more,  he  will 
be  taken  care  of,  with  the  tenderness  of  a  parent,  till  your  return. 
What  pleasure  must  this  give  you  !  if,  indeed,  anything  can  add  to 
the  happiness  of  a  married  couple,  who  are  extremely  and  deser- 
vedly fond  of  each  other,  and,  as  you  write  me,  in  perfect  health. 
A  superstitious  heathen  would  have  dreaded  the  malice  of  Nemesis 
in  your  situation  ;  but,  as  I  am  a  Christian,  I  shall  venture  to  add 
another  circumstance  to  your  felicity,  by  assuring  you  that  you  have, 
besides  your  wife,  a  faithful  and  zealous  friend.  Do  not,  therefore, 
my  dear  children,  fall  into  that  fault,  which,  the  excellent  Thucyd- 
ides  oteerves,  is  too  common  in  human  nature;  to  bear  heavily  the 
being  deprived  of  the  smaller  good,  without  conceiving,  at  the  same 
time,  any  gratitude  for  the  much  greater  blessings  which  we  are 
suffered  to  enjoy.  I  have  only  further  to  tell  you,  my  son,  that 
when  you  call  at  Mr.  Morand's,  Rue  Dauphine,  you  will  find  your- 
self worth  a  hundred  pounds.  Good  Heaven  !  how  much  richer  are 
you  than  millions  of  people,  who  are  in  want  of  nothing !  Farewell, 
and  know  me  for  your  sincere  and  affectionate  friend." 

*  A  set  of  beggarly  philosophers,  who  diverted  great  men  at  their  table  with 
burlesque  discourses  oa  virtue. 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  123 

*•  There,  madam,"  cries  Booth,  "  how  do  you  hke  the 
letter  ?" 

"  Oh,  extremely,"  answered  she  ;  "  the  doctor  is  a 
charming  man  ;  1  always  loved  dearly  to  liear  liini 
preach.  I  remember  to  have  heard  of  Mrs.  Harris's 
death  above  a  year  before  I  left  the  country,  but  never 
knew  the  particulars  of  her  will  before.  1  am  extremely 
sorry  for  it,  upon  my  honour." 

"Oh,  fy,  madam!"  cries  Booth;  "have  you  so  soon 
forgot  the  chief  purport  of  the  doctor's  letter  V 

"  Ay,  ay,"  cried  she  :  "  these  are  very  pretty  tilings  to 
read,  I  acknowledge  ;  but  the  loss  of  fortune  is  a  serious 
matter;  and  I  am  sure  a  man  of  Mr.  Booth's  understand- 
ing must  think  so." 

"  One  consideration,  I  must  own,  madam,"  answered 
he,  "  a  good  deal  baffled  all  the  doctor's  arguments.  This 
was  my  concern  for  my  little  growing  family,  who  must 
one  day  feel  the  loss  ;  nor  was  I  so  easy  upon  Amelia's 
account  as  upon  my  own,  though  she  herself  put  on  the 
utmost  cheerfulness,  and  stretched  her  invention  to  the 
utmost  to  comfort  me.  But  sure,  madam,  there  is  some- 
thing in  the  doctor's  letter  to  admire  beyond  the  philoso- 
phy of  it ;  what  think  you  of  that  easy,  generous,  friendly 
manner  in  which  he  sent  me  the  hundred  pounds  ]" 

"  Very  noble  and  great,  indeed  !"  replied  she.  "  But 
pray  go  on  with  your  story;  for  I  long  to  hear  the 
whole." 


Chapter  XL— In  which  Mr.  Booth  relates  his  return  to  England. 

"  NormNG  remarkable,  as  I  remember,  happened  during 
our  stay  at  Paris,  which  we  left  soon  after,  and  came  to 
London.  Here  we  rested  only  two  days;  and  then, 
taking  leave  of  our  fellow-travellers,  we  set  out  for  Wilt- 
shire ;  my  wife  being  so  impatient  to  see  the  child  which 
she  had  left  behind  her,  that  the  child  she  carried  with 
her  was  almost  killed  with  the  fatigue  of  the  journey. 

"  We  arrived  at  our  inn  late  in  the  evening.  Amelia, 
though  she  had  no  great  reason  to  be  pleased  with  any 
part  of  her  sister's  behaviour,  resolved  to  behave  to  her 
as  if  nothing  wrong  had  ever  happened.  She  therefore 
sent  a  kind  note  to  her  the  moment  of  our  arrival,  giving 
her  her  option  whether  she  would  come  to  us  at  the  inn, 
F2 


124  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

or  whether  we  should  that  evening  wait  on  her.  The 
servant,  after  waiting  an  hour,  brought  us  an  answer  ex- 
cusing her  from  coming  to  us  so  late,  as  she  was  dis* 
ordered  with  a  cold,  and  desiring  my  wife  by  no  means 
to  think  of  venturing  out  after  the  fatigue  of  her  journey  ; 
saying,  she  would,  on  that  account,  defer  the  great  pleas- 
ure of  seeing  her  till  the  morning,  without  taking  any  more 
notice  of  your  humble  servant  than  if  no  such  person 
had  been  in  the  world,  though  I  had  very  civilly  sent  my 
compliments  to  her.  I  should  not  mention  this  trifle,  if 
it  was  not  to  show  you  the  nature  of  the  woman,  and  that 
it  will  be  a  kind  of  key  to  her  future  conduct. 

"  When  the  servant  returned,  the  good  doctor  who 
had  been  with  us  almost  all  the  time  of  his  absence,  hur- 
ried us  away  to  his  house,  where  we  presently  found  a 
supper  and  abed  prepared  for  us.  My  wife  was  eagerly 
desirous  to  see  her  child  that  night ;  but  the  doctor 
would  not  suffer  it :  and  as  he  was  at  nurse  at  a  distant 
part  of  the  town,  and  the  doctor  assured  her  he  had  seen 
him  in  perfect  health  that  evening,  she  suffered  herself 
at  last  to  be  dissuaded. 

"  We  spent  that  evening  in  the  most  agreeable  manner ; 
for  the  doctor's  wit  and  humour,  joined  to  the  highest 
cheerfulness  and  good-nature,  made  him  the  most  agree- 
able companion  in  the  world  ;  and  he  was  now  in  the 
highest  spirits,  which  he  was  pleased  to  place  to  our  ac- 
count. We  sat  together  to  a  very  late  hour ;  for  so  ex- 
cellent is  my  wife's  constitution,  that  she  declared  she 
was  scarce  sensible  of  any  fatigue  from  her  late  journeys. 

"  Amelia  slept  not  a  wink  all  night ;  and  in  the  morn- 
ing early  the  doctor  accompanied  us  to  the  little  infant. 
The  transports  we  felt  on  this  occasion  were  really  en- 
chanting, nor  can  any  but  a  fond  parent  conceive,  I  am 
certain,  the  least  idea  of  them.  Our  inmginations  sug- 
gested a  hundred  iigreeable  circumstances,  none  of  which 
had,  perhaps,  any  foundation.  W'e  made  words  and 
meaning  out  of  every  sound  ;  and  in  every  feature  I  found 
out  some  resemblance  to  my  Amelia,  as  she  did  to  me. 

"  But  1  ask  your  pardon  for  dwelling  on  such  incidents ; 
and  will  proceed  to  scenes  which,  to  most  persons,  will 
be  more  entertaining. 

*'  We  went  hence  to  pay  a  visit  to  Miss  Harris,  whose 
reception  of  us  was,  1  think,  truly  ridiculous ;  and,  as 
you  know  the  lady,  I  will  endeavour  to  describe  it  par- 
ticularly.   At  our  first  arrival  we  were  ushered  into  a 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  l26 

parlour,  where  we  were  suffered  to  wait  almost  an  hour  : 
at  length  the  lady  of  the  house  appeared  in  deep  mourn- 
ing-, with  a  face,  if  possible,  more  dismal  than  her  dress, 
in  which,  however,  there  was  every  appearance  of  art. 
Her  features  were  indeed  screwed  up  to  the  very  height 
of  grief.     With  this  face,  and  in  the  most  solemn  gait, 
she   approached  Amelia,  and  coldly  saluted  her;  after 
which,  she  made  me  a  very  distant,  formal  courtesy,  and 
we  all  sat  down.     A  short  silence  now  ensued,  which 
Miss  Harris  at  length  broke  with  a  deep  sigh,  and  said, 
*  Sister,  here  is  a  great  alteration  in  this  place  since  you 
saw  it  last;  Heaven  has  been  pleased  to  take  my  poor 
mother  to  itself.'     (Here  she  wiped  her  eyes,  and  then 
continued.)     '  1  hope  I  know  my  duty,  and  have  learned  a 
proper  resignation  to  the  Divine  will ;  but  something  is 
to  be  allowed  to  grief  for  the  best  of  mothers  ;  for  so  she 
was  to  us  both  ;  and  if,  at  last,  she  made  any  distinction, 
she  must  have  had  her  reasons  for  so  doing.     I  am  sure 
I  can  truly  say  that  I  never  wished,  much  less  desired  it.' 
The  tears  now  stood  in  poor  Amelia's  eyes  ;  indeed,  she 
had  paid  too  many  already  for  the  memory  of  so  un- 
natural a  parent.     She  answered  with  the  sweetness  of 
an  angel,  that  she  was  far  from  blaming  her  sister's  emo- 
tions on  so  tender  an  occasion  ;  that  she  heartily  joined 
with  her  in  her  grief ;  for  that  nothing  which  her  mother 
had  done  in  the  latter  part  of  her  life  could  efface  the  re- 
membrance of  that  tenderness  which  she  had  formerly 
shown  her.     Her  sister  caught  hold  of  the  word  efface, 
and  rung  the  changes  upon  it.     'Efface!'  cried  she  ;  'oh, 
Miss  Emily !  (for  you   must  not  expect   me  to   repeat 
names   that  will  be  for   ever  odious,)   I  wish,  indeed, 
everything  could  be  effaced.     Effaced  !  oh  that  that  was 
possible !    we  might  then   have  still   enjoyed  my   poor 
mother;    for  I  am  convinced  she  never  recovered  her 
grief  on  a  certain  occasion.'     Thus  she  ran  on ;  and  after 
many  bitter  strokes  upon  her  sister,  at  last  directly  charg- 
ed her  mother's  death  on  my  marriage  with  Amelia.     I 
could  be  silent  then  no  longer.     I  reminded  her  of  the 
perfect  reconciliation  between  us  before  my  departure, 
and  the  great  fondness  which  she  expressed  for  me ;  nor 
could  1  help  saying,  in  very  plain  terms,  that  if  she  had 
ever  changed  her  opinion  of  me,  as  I  was  not  conscious 
of  having  deserved  such  a  change  by  my  own  behaviour, 
I  was  well  convinced  to  whose  good  offices  I  owed  it. 
Guilt  has  very  quick  ears  to  an  accusation.     Miss  Harris 
11* 


126  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

immediately  answered  to  the  charge.  She  said,  such 
suspicions  were  no  more  than  she  expected  ;  that  they 
were  of  a  piece  with  every  other  part  of  my  conduct, 
and  gave  her  one  consolation ;  that  they  served  to  ac- 
count for  her  sister  Emily's  unkindness,  as  well  to  her- 
self as  to  her  poor  deceased  mother,  and  in  some  meas- 
ure lessened  the  guilt  of  it  with  regard  to  her ;  since  it 
was  not  easy  to  know  how  far  a  woman  is  in  the  power 
of  her  husband.  My  dear  Amelia  reddened  at  this  reflec- 
tion on  me  ;  and  begged  her  sister  to  name  any  single 
instance  of  unkindness  or  disrespect,  in  which  she  had 
ever  off'ended.  To  this  the  other  answered,  (I  am  sure  I 
repeat  her  words,  though  I  cannot  mimic  either  the  voice 
or  the  air  with  which  they  were  spoken,)  '  Pray,  Miss 
Emily,  which  is  to  be  the  judge,  j^ourself,  or  that  gentle- 
man ?  I  remember  the  time  when  I  could  have  trusted 
to  your  judgment  in  any  affair ;  but  you  are  now  no  lon- 
ger mistress  of  yourself,  and  are  not  answerable  for  your 
actions.  Indeed,  it  is  my  constant  prayer  that  your  ac- 
tions may  not  be  imputed  to  you.  It  was  the  constant 
prayer  of  that  blessed  woman,  my  dear  mother,  who  is 
now  a  saint  above ;  a  saint,  whose  name  I  can  never 
mention  without  a  tear,  though  I  find  you  can  hear  it 
without  one.  I  cannot  help  observing  some  concern 
on  so  melancholy  an  occasion  ;  it  seems  due  to  decency; 
but  perhaps  (for  I  always  wish  to  excuse  you)  you  are 
forbid  to  cry.'  The  idea  of  being  bid  or  forbid  to  cry 
struck  so  strongly  on  my  fancy,  that  indignation  only 
could  have  prevented  me  from  laughing.  But  my  narra- 
tive, I  am  afraid,  begins  to  grow  tedious.  In  short,  after 
hearing,  for  near  an  hour,  every  malicious  insinuation 
which  a  fertile  genius  could  invent,  we  took  our  leave, 
and  separated  as  persons  who  would  never  willingly 
meet  again. 

"  The  next  morning  after  this  interview,  Amelia  re- 
ceived a  long  letter  from  Miss  Harris;  in  which,  after 
many  bitter  invectives  against  me,  she  excused  her 
mother,  alleging  that  she  had  been  driven  to  do  as  she 
did,  in  order  to  prevent  Amelia's  ruin,  if  her  fortune  had 
fallen  into  my  hands.  She  likewise  very  remotely  hinted 
that  she  would  be  only  a  trustee  for  her  sister's  children, 
and  told  her  that  on  one  condition  only  she  would  con- 
sent to  live  with  her  as  a  sister.  This  was,  if  she  could 
by  any  means  be  separated  from  that  man,  as  she  was 


k 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  127 

pleased  to  call  me,  who  had  caused  so  much  mischief  in 
the  family. 

*'  I  was  so  enrag-ed  at  this  usage,  that,  had  not  Amelia 
intervened,  I  believe  I  should  have  applied  to  a  maffis- 
trate  for  a  search-warrant  for  that  picture,  which  there 
was  so  much  reason  to  suspect  she  had  stolen ;  and 
which,  I  am  convinced,  upon  a  search,  we  should  have 
found  in  her  possession." 

"  Nay,  it  is  possible  enough,"  cries  Miss  Matthews ; 
"  for  1  believe  there  is  no  wickedness  of  which  the  lady 
is  not  capable." 

*'  This  agreeable  letter  was  succeeded  by  another  of 
the  like  comfortable  kind,  which  informed  me  that  the 
company  in  which  I  was,  being  an  additional  one  raised 
in  the  beginning  of  the  war,  was  reduced  ;  so  that  I  was 
now  a  lieutenant  on  half-pay. 

"  While  we  were  meditating  on  our  present  situation, 
the  good  doctor  came  to  us.  When  we  related  to  him 
the  manner  in  which  my  sister  had  treated  us,  he  cried 
out,  '  Poor  soul !  I  pity  her  heartily  ;'  for  this  is  the 
severest  resentment  he  ever  expresses  ;  indeed,  I  have 
often  heard  him  say,  that  a  wicked  soul  is  the  greatest 
object  of  compassion  in  the  world  ;"  a  sentiment  which 
we  shall  leave  the  reader  a  little  time  to  digest. 


Chapter  XII.— In  which  Mr.  Booth  concludes  his  story. 

"  The  next  day  the  doctor  set  out  for  his  parsonage, 
which  was  about  thirty  miles  distant,  whither  Amelia 
and  myself  accompanied  him,  and  where  we  stayed  with 
him  all  the  time  of  his  residence  there,  being  almost  three 
months. 

"  The  situation  of  the  parish  under  my  good  friend's 
care  is  very  pleasant ;  it  is  placed  among  meadows, 
washed  by  a  clear  trout  stream,  and  flanked  on  both 
sides  with  downs.  His  house,  indeed,  would  not  much 
attract  the  admiration  of  the  virtuoso :  he  built  it  him- 
self, and  it  is  remarkable  only  for  its  plainness ;  with 
which  the  furniture  so  well  agrees,  that  there  is  no  one 
thing  in  it  that  may  not  be  absolutely  necessary,  except 
books,  and  the  prints  of  Mr.  Hogarth,  whom  he  calls  a 
moral  satirist. 

"  Nothing,  however,  can  be  imagined  more  agreeable 


128  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

than  the  life  that  the  doctor  leads  in  this  homely  house, 
which  he  calls  his  earthly  paradise.  All  his  parishioners, 
whom  he  treats  as  his  children,  regard  him  as  their  com- 
mon father.  Once  in  a  week  he  constantly  visits  every 
house  in  the  parish,  examines,  commends,  and  rebukes, 
as  he  finds  occasion.  This  is  practised  likewise  by  his 
curate  in  his  absence  ;  and  so  good  an  effect  is  produced 
by  this  their  care,  that  no  quarrels  ever  proceed  either  to 
blows  or  law-suits  ;  no  beggar  is  to  be  found  in  the  whole 
parish  ;  nor  did  I  ever  hear  a  very  profane  oath  all  the 
time  I  lived  in  it. 

"  But  to  return  from  so  agreeable  a  digression  to  my 
own  affairs,  that  are  much  less  worth  your  attention.  In 
the  midst  of  all  the  pleasures  I  tasted  in  this  sweet  place, 
and  in  the  most  delightful  company,  the  woman  and  man 
whom  I  loved  above  all  things,  melancholy  reflections 
concerning  my  unhappy  circumstances  would  often  steal 
into  my  thoughts.  My  fortune  was  now  reduced  to 
less  than  forty  pounds  a  year !  1  had  already  two  chil- 
dren, and  my  dear  Amelia  was  again  with  child. 

"  One  day  the  doctor  found  me  sitting  by  myself,  and 
employed  in  melancholy  contemplations  on  this  subject. 
He  told  me  he  had  observed  me  growing  of  late  very 
serious  ;  that  he  knew  the  occasion,  and  neither  won- 
dered at  nor  blamed  me.  He  then  asked  me  if  I  had 
any  prospect  of  going  into  the  army;  if  not,  what  scheme 
of  life  I  proposed  to  myself. 

"  I  told  him,  that  as  I  had  no  powerful  friends,  I  could 
have  but  little  expectations  in  a  military  way  ;  that  I  was 
incapable  of  thinking  of  any  other  scheme,  as  all  business 
required  some  knowledge  or  experience,  and  likewise 
money  to  set  up  with  ;  of  all  which  I  was  destitute. 

"  *  You  must  know  then,  child,'  said  the  doctor,  ^  that 
1  have  been  thinking  on  this  subject  as  well  as  you ;  for 
I  can  think,  I  promise  you,  with  a  pleasant  countenance.' 
(These  were  his  words.)  'As  to  the  army,  perhaps 
means  might  be  found  of  getting  you  another  commis- 
sion ;  but  my  daughter  seems  to  have  a  violent  objection 
to  it ;  and,  to  be  plain,  I  fancy  you  yourself  will  find  no 
glory  make  you  amends  for  your  absence  from  her  :  and 
for  my  part,'  said  he, '  I  never  think  those  men  wise,  who, 
for  any  worldly  interest,  forego  the  greatest  happiness 
of  their  lives.  If  I  mistake  not,'  says  he, '  a  country  life, 
where  you  could  be  always  together,  would  make  you 
both  much  happier  people.' 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  129 

*'  I  answered,  that  of  all  things  I  preferred  it  most ;  and 
I  believed  Amelia  was  of  the  same  opinion. 

"  The  doctor,  after  a  little  hesitation,  proposed  to 
me  to  turn  farmer,  and  offered  to  let  me  his  parsonage, 
which  was  then  become  vacant  f  he  said  it  was  a  farm 
which  required  but  little  stock,  and  that  httle  should  not 
be  wanting. 

"  1  embraced  this  offer  very  eagerly,  and  with  great 
thankfulness ;  and  immediately  repaired  to  Amelia,  to 
communicate  it  to  her,  and  to  know  her  sentiments. 

"  Amelia  received  the  news  with  the  highest  transports 
of  joy  ;  she  said  that  her  greatest  fear  had  always  been 
of  my  entering  again  into  the  army.  She  was  so  kind  as 
to  say,  that  all  stations  of  life  were  equal  to  her,  unless 
as  one  afforded  her  more  of  my  company  than  another. 
'  And  as  to  our  children,'  said  she, '  let  us  bring  them  up  to 
an  humble  fortune,  and  they  will  be  contented  with  it ;  for 
none,'  added  my  angel,  'deserves  happiness,  or,  indeed, 
are  capable  of  it,  who  make  any  particular  station  a  ne- 
cessary ingredient.' 

"  Thus,  madam,  you  see  me  degraded  from  my  former 
rank  in  life  ;  no  longer  Captain  Booth,  but  Farmer  Booth, 
at  your  service. 

"  During  my  first  year's  continuance  in  this  new  scene 
of  life,  nothing,  I  think,  remarkable  happened :  the  his- 
tory of  one  day  would,  indeed,  be  the  history  of  the  whole 
year." 

"  Well,  pray,  then,"  said  Miss  Matthews,  "  do  let  us 
hear  the  history  of  that  day.  I  have  a  strange  curiosity 
to  know  how  you  could  kill  your  time  :  and  do,  if  pos- 
sible, find  out  the  very  best  day  you  can." 

"  If  you  command  me,  madam,"  answered  Booth, 
"  you  must  yourself  be  accountable  for  the  dulness  of 
the  narrative  :  nay,  I  believe  you  have  imposed  a  very 
difficult  task  on  me  ;  for  the  greatest  happiness  is  inca- 
pable of  description. 

"  I  rose,  then,  madam — " 

"  Oh,  the  moment  you  waked,  undoubtedly,"  said  Miss 
Matthews. 

"  Usually,"  said  he,  "  between  five  and  six." 

"  I  will  have  no  usually,"  cried  Miss  Matthews  :  "  you 
are  confined  to  a  day,  and  it  is  to  be  the  best  and  happi- 
est in  the  year." 

"  Nay,  madam,"  cries  Booth ;  "  then  I  must  tell  you 
the  day  in  which  Amelia  was  brought  to  bed,  after  a 
FS 


ISO  THE  HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

painful  and  dangerous  labour ;  for  that,  I  think,  was  the 
happiest  day  of  my  life." 

'•  1  protest,"  said  she,  "  you  are  become  Farmer  Booth 
indeed.  What  a  happiness  you  have  painted  to  my  im- 
agination !  You  put  me  in  mind  of  a  newspaper,  where 
my  lady  Such-a-one  is  delivered  of  a  son,  to  the  great 
joy  of  some  illustrious  family." 

"  Why,  then,  I  do  assure  you,  Miss  Matthews,"  cries 
Booth,  "  I  scarce  know  a  circumstance  that  distinguished 
one  day  from  another.  The  whole  was  one  continued 
series  of  love,  health,  and  tranquillity.  Our  lives  re- 
sembled a  calm  sea." 

"  The  dullest  of  all  ideas,"  cries  the  lady, 

"  I  know,"  said  he,  "  it  must  appear  dull  in  description ; 
for  who  can  describe  the  pleasures  which  the  morning 
air  gives  to  one  in  perfect  health  ;  the  flow  of  spirits 
which  springs  up  from  exercise ;  the  delights  which  pa- 
rents feel  from  the  prattle  and  innocent  follies  of  their 
children  ;  the  joy  with  which  the  tender  smile  of  a  wife 
inspires  a  husband  ;  or,  lastly,  the  cheerful,  solid  com- 
fort which  a  fond  couple  enjoy  in  each  other's  conver- 
sation 1  All  these  pleasures,  and  every  other  of  which 
our  situation  was  capable,  we  tasted  in  the  highest  de- 
gree. Our  happiness  was,  perhaps,  too  great ;  for  For- 
tune seemed  to  grow  envious  of  it,  and  interposed  one 
of  the  most  cruel  accidents  that  could  have  befallen  us, 
by  robbing  us  of  our  dear  friend  the  doctor." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  it,"  said  Miss  Matthews :  "  he  was 
indeed  a  valuable  man,  and  I  never  heard  of  his  death 
before." 

"  Long  may  it  be  before  any  one  hears  of  it  !"  cries 
Booth  :  '•  he  is,  indeed,  dead  to  us  ;  but  will,  I  hope,  en- 
joy many  happy  years  of  life.  You  know,  madam,  the 
obligations  he  had  to  his  patron,  the  earl ;  indeed,  it 
was  impossible  to  be  once  in  his  company  without  hear- 
ing of  them  :  I  am  sure  you  will  neither  wonder  that  he 
was  chosen  to  attend  the  young  lord  in  his  travels  as 
his  tutor,  nor  that  the  good  man,  however  disagreeable 
it  might  be,  as  in  fact  it  was,  to  his  inclination,  should 
comply  with  the  earnest  request  of  his  friend  and  pa- 
tron. 

"  By  this  means  I  was  bereft  not  only  of  the  best 
companion  in  the  world,  but  of  the  best  counsellor;  a 
loss,  of  which  I  have  since  felt  the  bitter  consequence  ; 
for  no  greater  advantage,  I  am  convinced,  can  arrive  to 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  131 

a  young  man  who  has  any  degree  of  understanding,  than 
an  intimate  converse  with  one  of  riper  years,  who  is 
not  only  able  to  advise,  but  who  knows  the  manner  of 
advising.  By  this  means  alone,  youth  can  enjoy  the 
benefit  of  the  experience  of  age,  and  at  a  time  of  life 
when  such  experience  will  be  of  more  service  to  a  man, 
than  when  he  has  lived  long  enough  to  acquire  it  of  him- 
self. 

"  From  want  of  my  sage  counsellor,  I  now  fell  into 
many  errors.  The  first  of  these  was  in  enlarging  my 
business,  by  adding  a  farm  of  one  hundred  a  year  to  the 
parsonage  ;  in  renting  which  I  had  also  as  bad  a  bargain 
as  the  doctor  had  before  given  me  a  good  one.  The 
consequence  of  which  was,  that  whereas,  at  the  end  of 
the  first  year,  I  was  worth  upwards  of  fourscore  pounds, 
at  the  end  of  the  second  I  was  near  half  that  sum 
worse,  as  the  phrase  is,  than  nothing. 

"  A  second  folly  I  was  guilty  of  in  uniting  families 
with  the  curate  of  the  parish,  who  had  just  married,  as 
my  wife  and  I  thought,  a  very  good  sort  of  a  woman. 
We  had  not,  however,  lived  one  month  together,  before 
I  plainly  perceived  this  good  sort  of  a  woman  had  taken 
a  great  prejudice  against  my  Amelia ;  for  which,  if  I 
had  not  known  something  of  the  human  passions,  and 
that  high  place  which  envy  holds  among  them,  I  should 
not  have  been  able  to  account :  for  so  far  was  my  angel 
from  having  given  her  any  cause  of  dislike,  that  she  had 
treated  her  not  only  with  civility,  but  kindness. 

"  Besides  superiority  in  beauty,  which,  I  believe,  all 
the  world  would  have  allowed  to  Amelia,  there  was  an- 
other cause  of  this  envy,  which  I  am  almost  ashamed  to 
mention,  as  it  may  well  be  called  my  greatest  folly. 

"  You  are  to  know  then,  madam,  that  from  a  boy  I 
had  been  always  fond  of  driving  a  coach,  in  which  I  val- 
ued myself  on  having  some  skill.  This,  perhaps,  was 
an  innocent,  but  1  allow  it  to  have  been  a  childish  vanity. 
As  I  had  an  opportunity,  therefore,  of  buying  an  old 
coach  and  harness  very  cheap,  (indeed,  they  cost  me  but 
twelve  pounds,)  and  as  I  considered  that  the  same  horses 
which  drew  my  wngon  would  likewise  draw  my  coach, 
I  resolved  on  indulging  myself  in  the  purchase. 

"  The  consequence  of  setting  up  this  poor  old  coach 
is  inconceivable.  Before  this,  as  my  wife  and  myself 
had  very  little  distinguished  ourselves  from  the  other 
farmers  and  their  wives,  either  in  our  dress  or  our  way 


132  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

of  living,  they  treated  us  as  their  equals  ;  but  now  they 
began  to  consider  us  as  elevating  ourselves  into  a  state 
of  superiority,  and  immediately  began  to  envy,  hate,  and 
.  declare  war  against  us.  The  neighbouring  little  squires, 
too,  were  uneasy  to  see  a  poor  renter  become  their 
equal  in  a  matter  in  which  they  placed  so  much  dignity ; 
and  not  doubting  but  it  arose  in  me  from  the  same  os- 
tentation, they  began  to  hate  me  likewise,  and  to  turn 
my  equipage  into  ridicule  ;  asserting  that  my  horses, 
which  were  as  well  matched  as  any  in  the  kingdom, 
were  of  different  colours  and  sizes;  with  much  more 
of  that  kind  of  wit,  the  only  basis  of  which  is  lying. 

"  But  what  will  appear  more  surprising  to  you.  mad- 
am, was,  that  the  curate's  wife,  who,  being  lame,  had 
more  use  of  the  coach  than  my  Amelia,  (indeed,  she 
seldom  went  to  church  in  any  other  manner,)  was  one 
of  my  bitterest  enemies  on  the  occasion.  If  she  had 
ever  any  dispute  with  Amelia,  which  all  the  sweetness 
of  my  poor  girl  could  not  sometimes  avoid,  she  was  sure 
to  introduce,  with  a  malicious  sneer,  '  Though  my 
husband  does  not  keep  a  coach,  madam.'  Nay,  she 
took  this  opportunity  to  upbraid  my  wife  with  the  loss 
of  her  fortune  ;  alleging,  that  '  some  folks  might  have 
had  as  good  pretensions  to  a  coach  as  other  folks,  and  a 
better  loo,  as  they  brought  a  better  fortune  to  their  hus- 
bands ;  but  that  all  people  had  not  the  art  of  making 
brick  without  straw.' 

"  You  will  wonder,  perhaps,  madam,  how  I  can  re- 
member such  stuff,  which,  indeed,  was  a  long  time  only 
matter  of  amusement  to  both  Amelia  and  myself;  but 
wo  at  last  experienced  the  mischievous  nature  of  envy, 
and  that  it  tends  rather  to  produce  tragical  than  comical 
events.  My  neighbours  now  began  to  conspire  against 
me  :  they  nicknamed  me,  in  derision,  the  Squire  Farmer. 
Whate\'er  I  bought,  I  was  sure  to  buy  dearer ;  and  when 
I  sold,  I  was  obliged  to  sell  cheaper  than  any  other.  In 
fact,  they  v;ere  all  united  ;  and  while  they  every  day 
committed  trespasses  on  my  lands  with  impunity,  if 
any  of  my  cattle  escaped  into  their  fields,  I  was  forced 
to  enter  into  a  law-suit,  or  to  make  amends  fourfold  for 
the  damage  sustained. 

"  The  consequences  of  all  this  could  be  no  other  than 
that  ruin  which  ensued.  Without  tiring  you  with  par- 
ticulars, before  the  end  of  four  j^ears,  I  became  involved 
in  debt  near  three  hundred  pounds  more  than  the  value 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  133 

of  all  my  effects.  My  landlord  seized  my  stock  for 
rent :  and,  to  avoid  immediate  confinement  in  prison,  I 
was  forced  to  leave  the  country,  with  all  that  I  hold 
dear  in  the  world,  my  wife,  and  my  poor  little  family. 

"  In  this  condition  I  arrived  in  town  five  or  six  days 
ago.  I  had  just  taken  a  lodging  in  the  verge  of  the 
court,  and  had  written  my  dear  Amelia  word  where  she 
might  find  me,  when  she  had  settled  her  affairs  in  the 
best  manner  she  could.  That  very  evening,  as  I  was 
returning  home  from  a  coffee-house,  a  fray  happening 
in  the  street,  I  endeavoured  to  assist  the  injured  party, 
when  I  was  seized  by  the  watch,  and,  after  being  con- 
fined all  night  in  the  round-house,  was  conveyed  m  the 
morning  before  a  justice  of  peace,  who  committed  me 
hither ;  where  I  should  probably  have  starved,  had  I 
not,  from  your  hands,  found  a  most  unaccountable  pres- 
ervation :  and  here,  give  me  leave  to  assure  you,  my  dear 
Miss  Matthews,  that  whatever  advantage  I  may  have 
reaped  from  your  misfortune,  I  sincerely  lament  it ;  nor 
would  I  have  purchased  any  rehef  to  myself  at  the  price 
of  seeing  you  in  this  dreadful  place." 

He  spake  these  last  words  with  great  tenderness ; 
for  he  w^as  a  man  of  consummate  good-nature,  and  had 
formerly  had  much  affection  for  this  young  lady  ;  indeed, 
more  than  the  generality  of  people  are  capable  of  enter- 
taining for  any  person  whatsoever. 


BOOK    IV. 

Chapter  I.— Containing  very  mysterious  matter. 

Miss  Matthews  did  not  in  the  least  fall  short  of  Mr. 
Booth  in  expressions  of  tenderness.  Her  eyes,  the 
most  eloquent  orators  on  such  occasions,  exerted  their 
utmost  force  ;  and,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  she 
cast  a  look  as  languishingly  sweet  as  ever  Cleopatra 
gave  to  Antony.  In  real  fact,  this  Mr.  Booth  had  been 
her  first  love,  and  had  made  strong  impressions  on  her 
young  heart,  which  the  learned  in  this  branch  of  phi- 
losophy affirm,  and  perhaps  truly,  are  never  to  be  erad- 
icated. 
12 


134  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

When  Booth  had  finished  his  story,  a  silence  ensued 
of  some  minutes ;  an  interval  which  the  painter  would 
describe  much  better  than  the  writer.  Some  readers 
may,  however,  be  able  to  make  pretty  pertinent  conjec- 
tures by  what  1  have  said  above,  especially  when  they 
are  told  that  Miss  Matthews  broke  the  silence  by  a  sigh, 
and  cried,  "  Why  is  Mr.  Booth  unwilling  to  allow  me 
the  happiness  of  thinking  my  misfortunes  have  been  of 
some  little  advantage  to  him  1  Sure  the  happy  Ameha 
would  not  be  so  selfish  to  envy  me  that  pleasure  :  no  ; 
not  if  she  was  as  much  the  fondest,  as  she  is  the  hap- 
piest of  women."  *'  Good  Heavens!  madam,"  said  he; 
"  do  you  call  my  poor  Amelia  the  happiest  of  women  V 
"  Indeed  I  do,"  answered  she,  briskly.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Booth ! 
there  is  a  speck  of  white  in  her  fortune,  which,  when  it 
falls  to  the  lot  of  a  sensible  woman,  makes  her  full 
amends  for  all  the  crosses  which  can  attend  her.  Per- 
haps she  may  not  be  sensible  of  it ;  but  if  it  had  been 
my  blessed  fate —  Oh,  Mr.  Booth  !  could  I  have  thought, 
when  we  were  first  acquainted,  that  the  most  agreeable 
man  in  the  world  had  been  capable  of  making  the  kind, 
the  tender,  the  aff'ectionate  husband "?  The  happy  Ame- 
lia, in  those  days,  was  unknown ;  Heaven  had  not  then 
given  her  a  prospect  of  the  happiness  it  intended  her — 
but  yet  it  did  intend  it  her ;  for  sure  there  is  a  fatality 
in  the  affairs  of  love  ;  and  the  more  I  reflect  on  my  own 
life,  the  more  I  am  convinced  of  it.  Oh,  heavens  !  how 
a  thousand  little  circumstances  crowd  into  my  mind ! 
When  you  first  marched  into  our  town,  you  had  then  the 
colours  in  your  hand :  as  you  passed  under  the  window 
where  I  stood,  my  glove,  by  accident,  dropped  into  the 
street ;  you  stooped,  took  up  my  glove,  and,  putting  it 
upon  the  spike  belonging  to  your  colours,  lifted  it  up  to 
the  window.  Upon  this,  a  young  lady,  who  stood  by, 
said,'  So,  miss,  the  young  officer  has  accepted' your  chal- 
lenge !'  1  blushed  then,  and  I  blush  now,  when  I  confess 
to  you,  I  thought  you  the  prettiest  young  fellow  I  had 
ever  seen ;  and,  upon  my  soul,  I  believe  you  was  then 
the  prettiest  fellow  in  the  world."  Booth  here  made  a 
low  bow,  and  cried,  "  Oh,  dear  madam,  how  ignorant 
was  I  of  my  own  happiness  !"  "  Would  you  really  have 
thought  sol"  answered  she:  -'however,  there  is  some 
politeness,  if  there  be  no  sincerity,  in  what  you  say." 
Here  the  governor  of  the  enchanted  castle  interrupted 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  135 

them,  and,  entering  the  room  without  any  ceremony,  ac- 
quainted the  lady  and  gentleman  that  it  was  locking  up 
time  ;  and,  addressing  Booth  by  the  name  of  captain, 
asked  him  if  he  would  not  please  to  have  a  bed  ;  adding, 
that  he  might  have  one  in  the  next  room  to  the  lady, 
but  that  it  would  come  dear;  for  that  he  never  let  a  bed 
in  that  room  under  a  guinea,  nor  could  he  afford  it 
cheaper  to  his  father. 

No  answer  was  made  to  this  proposal;  but  Miss  Mat- 
thews, who  had  already  learned  some  of  the  ways  of 
the  house,  said,  she  believed  Mr.  Booth  would  like  to 
drink  a  glass  of  something ;  upon  which  the  governor 
immediately  trumpeted  forth  the  praises  of  his  rack 
punch,  and,  without  waiting  for  any  further  commands, 
presently  produced  a  large  bowl  of  that  liquor. 

The  governor,  having  recommended  the  goodness  of 
his  punch  by  a  hearty  draught,  began  to  revive  the  other 
matter,  saying,  that  he  was  just  going  to  bed,  and  must 
first  lock  up.  "  But  suppose,"  said  Miss  Matthews, 
with  a  smile,  "  the  captain  and  I  should  have  a  mind  to 
sit  up  all  night."  "  With  all  my  heart,"  said  the  gov- 
ernor ;  "  but  1  expect  a  consideration  for  those  matters. 
For  my  part,  1  don't  inquire  into  what  does  not  concern 
me ;  but  single  and  double  are  two  things.  If  I  lock  up 
double,  I  expect  half  a  guinea  ;  and  I'm  sure  the  cap- 
tain cannot  think  that's  out  of  the  way.  It  is  but  the 
price  of  a  bagnio." 

Miss  Matthews's  face  became  the  colour  of  scarlet  at 
those  words  :  however,  she  mustered  up  her  spirits,  and, 
turning  to  Booth,  said,  "  What  say  you,  captain  1  for 
my  own  part,  I  had  never  less  inclination  to  sleep. 
Which  has  the  greater  charms  for  you,  the  punch  or 
the  pillow  ?"  "  1  hope,  madam,"  answered  Booth,  "  you 
have  a  better  opinion  of  me  than  to  doubt  my  preferring 
Miss  Matthews's  conversation  to  either."  "  I  assure 
you,"  replied  she,  "  it  is  no  compliment  to  you  to  say  I 
prefer  yours  to  sleep  at  this  time." 

The  governor  then,  having  received  his  fee,  departed ; 
and,  turning  the  key,  left  the  gentleman  and  the  lady  to 
themselves. 

In  imitation  of  him,  we  will  lock  up  likewise  a  scene, 
which  we  do  not  think  proper  to  expose  to  the  eyes  of 
the  public.  If  any  over-curious  readers  should  be  dis- 
appointed on  this  occasion,  we  will  recommeud  such 


136  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

readers  to  the  Apologies  with  which  certain  gay  ladies 
have  lately  been  pleased  to  oblige  the  world,  where 
they  w^ill  possibly  find  everything  recorded  that  passed 
at  this  interval. 

But  though  we  decline  painting  the  scene,  it  is  not 
our  intention  to  conceal  from  the  world  the  frailty  of 
Mr.  Booth,  or  of  his  fair  partner,  who  certainly  passed 
that  evening  in  a  manner  inconsistent  with  the  strictest 
rules  of  virtue  and  chastity. 

To  say  the  truth,  we  are  much  more  concerned  for 
the  behaviour  of  the  gentleman  than  of  the  lady ;  not 
only  for  his  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  best  woman 
in  the  world,  whom  we  should  be  sorry  to  consider  as 
yoked  to  a  man  of  no  worth  nor  honour. 

We  desire,  therefore,  the  good-natured  and  candid 
reader  will  be  pleased  to  weigh  attentively  the  several 
unlucky  circumstances,  which  concurred  so  critically, 
that  Fortune  seemed  to  have  used  her  utmost  endeav- 
ours to  insnare  poor  Booth's  constancy.  Let  the 
reader  set  before  his  eyes  a  fine  young  woman,  in  a 
manner,  a  first  love,  conferring  obligations,  and  using 
every  art  to  soften,  to  allure,  to  win,  and  to  inflame  ; 
let  him  consider  the  time  and  place  ;  let  him  remember 
that  Mr.  Booth  was  a  young  fellow,  in  the  highest  vig- 
our of  life :  and  lastly,  let  him  add  one  single  circum- 
stance, that  the  parties  were  alone  together ;  and  then, 
if  he  will  not  acquit  the  defendant,  he  must  be  con- 
victed ;  for  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  in  his  defence. 


Chapter  II.— The  latter  part  of  which  we  expect -will  please  our 
readers  better  than  the  former. 

A  WHOLE  week  did  our  lady  and  gentleman  live  in  this 
criminal  conversation,  in  which  the  happiness  of  the 
former  was  much  more  perfect  than  that  of  the  latter; 
for  though  the  charms  of  Miss  Matthews,  and  her  ex- 
cessive endearments,  sometimes  lulled  every  thought  in 
the  sweet  lethargy  of  pleasure,  yet,  in  the  intervals  of 
his  fits,  his  virtue  alarmed  and  roused  him,  and  brought 
the  image  of  poor  injured  Amelia  to  haunt  and  torment 
him.  In  fact,  if  we  regard  this  world  only,  it  is  the 
interest  of  every  man  to  be  either  perfectly  good  or 
completely  bad  :  he  had  better  destroy  his  conscience, 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  137 

than  gently  wound  it.  The  many  bitter  reflections 
which  every  bad  action  costs  a  mind  in  which  there 
are  any  remains  of  goodness,  are  not  to  be  compensa- 
ted by  the  highest  pleasures  which  such  an  action  can 
produce. 

So  it  happened  to  Mr.  Booth.  Repentance  never 
failed  to  follow  his  transgressions;  and  yet,  so  perverse 
is  our  judgment,  and  so  slippery  is  the  descent  of  vice, 
when  once  we  are  entered  into  it,  the  same  crime  which 
he  now  repented  of  became  a  reason  for  doing  that 
which  was  to  cause  his  future  repentance ;  and  he  con- 
tinued to  sin  on,  because  he  had  begun.  His  repent- 
ance, however,  returned  still  heavier  and  heavier,  till,  at 
last,  it  flung  him  into  a  melancholy,  which  Miss  Mat- 
thews plainly  perceived,  and  at  which  she  could  not 
avoid  expressing  some  resentment  in  obscure  hints  and 
ironical  compliments  on  Amelia's  superiority  to  her 
whole  sex,  who  could  not  cloy  a  gay  young  fellow  by 
so  many  years  possession.  She  would  then  repeat  the 
compliments  which  others  had  made  to  her  own  beauty ; 
and  could  not  forbear  once  crying  out,  "  Upon  my  soul, 
my  dear  Billy,  I  believe  the  chief  disadvantage  on  my 
side  is  in  my  superior  fondness  ;  for  love,  in  the  minds  of 
men,  has  one  quality,  at  least,  of  a  fever,  which  is  to 
prefer  coldness  in  the  object.  Confess,  dear  Will,  is 
there  not  something  vastly  refreshing  in  the  cool  air  of 
a  prude  ]"  Booth  fetched  a  deep  sigh,  and  begged  her 
never  more  to  mention  Amelia's  name.  "  Oh,  Will," 
cries  she,  "  did  that  request  proceed  from  the  motive  I 
could  wish,  I  should  be  the  happiest  of  womankind." 
"  You  would  not  sure,  madam,"  said  Booth,  "  desire  a 
sacrifice,  which  I  must  be  a  villain  to  make  to  any  V 
*'  Desire  !"  answered  she  :  "  are  there  any  bounds  to  the 
desires  of  love?  have  not  I  been  sacrificed?  has  not 
my  first  love  been  torn  from  my  bleeding  heart  1  I  claim 
a  prior  right.  As  for  sacrifices,  I  can  make  them  too ; 
and  would  sacrifice  the  whole  world  at  the  least  call  of 
my  love." 

Here  she  delivered  a  letter  to  Booth,  which  she  had 
received  within  an  hour;  the  contents  of  which  were 
these : — 

"  Dearest  Madam, 
"  Those  only  who  truly  know  what  love  is,  can  have  any  con- 
ception of  the  horrors  I  felt  at  hearing  of  your  confinement  at  my 
arrival  in  town,  which  was  this  morning.    I  immediately  sent  my 
13* 


138  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

lawyer  to  inquire  into  the  particulars,  who  brought  me  the  agreeable 
news,  that  the  man,  whose  heart's  blood  ought  not  to  be  valued  at 
the  rate  of  a  single  hair  of  yours,  is  entirely  out  of  all  danger,  and 
that  you  might  be  admitted  to  bail.  I  presently  ordered  him  to  go 
with  two  of  my  tradesmen,  who  are  to  be  bound  in  any  sum  for 
your  appearance,  if  he  should  be  mean  enough  to  prosecute  you. 
Though  you  may  expect  my  attorney  with  you  soon,  I  would  not 
delay  sending  this,  as  I  hope  the  news  will  be  agreeable  to  you.  My 
chariot  will  attend  at  the  same  time  to  carry  you  wherever  you 
please.  You  may  easily  guess  what  a  violence  I  have  done  to  my- 
self in  not  waiting  on  you  in  person  :  but  I,  who  know  your  delicacy, 
feared  it  might  offend,  and  that  you  might  think  me  ungenerous 
enough  to  hope,  from  your  distresses,  a  happiness  which  1  am  re- 
solved to  owe  to  your  free  gift  alone,  when  your  good-nature  shall 
induce  you  to  bestow  on  me  what  no  man  living  can  merit.  I  beg 
you  will  pardon  all  the  contents  of  this  hasty  letter,  and  do  me  the 
honour  of  believing  me,  dearest  madam,  your  most  passionate  ad- 
mirer, and  most  obedient  humble  servant,  Damon." 


Booth  thought  he  had  somewhere  before  seen  the 
same  hand,  but  m  his  present  hurry  of  spirits  could  not 
recollect  whose  it  was  ;  nor  did  the  lady  give  him  any 
time  for  reflection  :  for  he  had  scarce  read  the  letter, 
when  she  produced  a  little  bit  of  paper,  and  cried  out, 
"  Here,  sir,  here  are  the  contents  which  he  fears  will 
offend  me."  She  then  put  a  bank-bill  of  a  hundred 
pounds  into  Mr.  Booth's  hand,  and  asked  him,  with  a 
smile,  if  he  did  not  think  she  had  reason  to  be  offended 
with  so  much  insolence. 

Before  Booth  could  return  any  answer,  the  governor 
arrived,  and  introduced  Mr.  Rogers  the  attorney,  who 
acquainted  the  lady  that  he  had  brought  her  discharge 
from  her  confinement,  and  that  a  chariot  waited  at  the 
door  to  attend  her  wherever  she  pleased. 

She  received  the  discharge  from  xMr.  Rogers,  and  said, 
she  was  very  much  obliged  to  the  gentleman  who  em- 
ployed him,  but  that  she  would  not  make  use  of  the 
chariot,  as  she  had  no  notion  of  leaving  that  wretched 
place  in  a  triumphant  manner;  in  which  resolution, 
when  the  attorney  found  her  obstinate,  he  withdrew, 
as  did  the  governor,  with  many  bows,  and  as  many 
ladyships. 

They  were  no  sooner  gone,  than  Booth  asked  the 
lady  why  she  would  refuse  the  chariot  of  a  gentleman 
who  had  behaved  with  such  excessive  respect  1  She 
looked  earnestly  upon  him,  and  cried,  "  How  unkind  is 
that  question  !  Do  you  imagine  I  would  go,  and  leave 
you  in  such  a  situation?    Thou  knowest  but  little  of 


I 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  139 

Calista.  Why,  do  you  think  I  would  accept  this  hun- 
dred pounds  from  a  man  I  dishke,  unless  it  was  to  be 
serviceable  to  the  man  I  love  1  I  insist  on  your  taking 
it  as  your  own,  and  using  whatever  j^ou  want  of  it." 

"  Booth  protested,  in  the  solemnest  manner,  that  he 
would  not  touch  a  shilhng  of  it,  saying-,  he  had  already 
received  too  many  obligations  at  her  hands,  and  more 
than  ever  he  should  be  able,  he  feared,  to  repay.  '*  How 
unkind,"  answered  she,  "  is  every  word  3^ou  say  !  why 
will  you  mention  obligations  1  love  never  confers  any. 
It  does  everything  for  its  own  sake.  I  am  not  there- 
fore obliged  to  the  man  whose  passion  makes  him  gen- 
erous; for  I  feel  how  inconsiderable  the  whole  world  i 
would  appear  to  me,  if  I  could  throw  it  after  my  heart.*'           :' 

Much  more  of  this  kind  passed,  she  still  pressing  the  ^-' 

bank-note  upon  him,  and  he  as  absolutely  refusing,  tilj  ? 

Booth  left  the  lady  to  dress  herself,  and  went  to  walk  | 

in  the  area  of  the  prison.  ■ 

Miss  Matthews  now  applied  to  the  governor,  to  know 
by  what  means  she  might  procure  the  captain  his  liberty.  ] 

The  governor  answered,  "  As  he  cannot  get  bail,  it  will  \ 

be  a  difficult  matter;  and  money,  to  be  sure,  there  must  v 

be;  for  people,  no  doubt,  expect  to  touch  on  these  oc- 
casions. When  prisoners  have  not  wherewithal  as  the 
law  requires  to  entitle  themselves  to  justice,  why  they 
must  be  beholden  to  other  people  to  give  them  their 
liberty ;  and  people  v/ill  not,  to  be  sure,  suffer  others  to 
be  beholden  to  them  for  nothing,  whereof  there  is  good 
reason  ;  for  how  should  we  all  live  if  it  was  not  for  these 
things  V  "  Well,  well,"  said  she,  "  and  how  much  will 
it  cost?"  "How  much?"  answered  he  :  "  how  much  1 
why,  let  me  see."  Here  he  hesitated  some  time,  and 
then  answered,  that  for  five  guineas  he  would  undertake 
to  procure  the  captain  his  discharge,  that  being  the  sum 
which  he  computed  to  remain  in  the  lady's  pocket;  for 
as  to  the  gentleman's,  he  had  long  been  acquainted  with 
the  emptiness  of  it. 

Miss  Matthews,  to  whom  money  was  as  dirt,  (indeed, 
she  may  be  thought  not  to  have  known  the  value  of  it,) 
delivered  him  the  bank-bill,  and  bid  him  get  it  changed  ; 
"  for  if  the  whole,"  says  she,  "  will  procure  him  his 
liberty,  he  shall  have  it  this  evening." 

"  The  whole,  madam  ?"  answered  the  governor,  as 
soon  as  he  had  recovered  his  breath ;  for  it  almost  for- 
sook him  at  the  sight  of  the  black  word  hundred  :  "  No, 


140  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

no.  There  might  be  people  indeed — but  I  am  not  one 
of  those.  A  hundred!  no,  nor  nothing  like  it.  As  for 
myself,  as  I  said,  I  will  be  content  with  five  guineas,  and 
I  am  sure  that's  little  enough.  What  other  people  wili 
expect,  I  cannot  exactly  say.  To  be  sure,  his  worship's 
clerk  will  expect  to  touch  pretty  handsomely  t  as  for 
his  worship  himself,  he  never  touches  anything,  tliat  is, 
not  to  speak  of;  but  then  the  constable  will  expect  some- 
thing, and  the  watchmen  must  have  something;  and 
the  lawyers  on  both  sides,  they  must  have  thei-r  fees 
for  finishing."  "  Well,"  said  she,  "  I  leave  all  to  you. 
If  it  costs  me  twenty  pounds  I  will  have  him  discharged 
this  afternoon.  But  you  must  give  his  discharge  into 
my  hands,  without  Jetting  the  captain  know  any^hijigof 
the  matter." 

The  governor  promised  to  obey  her  commands  in 
every  particular ;  nay,  he  was  so  very  industrious,  thai 
though  dinner  was  just  then  coming  upon  the  table,  at 
her  earnest  request,  he  &et  out  immediately  on  the  pur- 
pose, and  went,  as  he  said,  in  pursuit  of  the  lawyer. 

All  the  other  company  assemWed  at  table  as  usual, 
where  poor  Booth  was  the  only  person  out  af  spirits. 
This  was  imputed  by  all  present  to  a  wrang  cause ;  nay. 
Miss  Matthew^s  herself  either  could  not  or  would  not 
suspect  that  there  was  anything  deeper  than  the  despair 
of  being  speedily  discharged,  that  lay  heavy  on  his 
mind. 

However,  the  mirth  of  the  rest,  and  a  pretty  liberal 
quantity  of  punch,  which  he  swallowed  after  dinner, 
(for  Miss  Matthews  had  ordered  a  very  large  bowl  at 
her  own  expense,  to  entertain  the  good  company  at  her 
farewell,)  so  far  exhilaratewi  his  spirits,  that,  when  th« 
young  lady  and  he  retired  to  their  tea,  he  had  all  the 
marks  ofgayety  in  his  countenance,  and  his  eyes  sparkled 
with  good  humour. 

The  gentleman  and  lady  had  spent  about  two  hours 
in  tea  and  conversation,  when  the  governor  returned, 
and  privately  delivered  to  the  lady  the  discharge  for  her 
friend,  and  the  sum  of  eighty-two  pounds  five  shillings  ; 
the  rest  having  been,  he  said,  disbursed  in  the  business, 
of  which  he  was  ready  at  any  time  to  render  an  exact 
account. 

Miss  Matthews  being  again  alone  with  Mr.  Booth,  she 
put  the  discharge  into  his  hands,  desiring  him  to  ask 
her  no  questions ;  and  adding,  "  I  think,  sir,  we  have 


V///////.y    //  //^.r//rr/rr/    /■/.;/'/ 


/ 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  141 

neither  of  us  now  anything  more  to  do  at  this  place." 
She  then  summoned  the  governor,  and  ordered  a  bill  of 
that  day's  expense,  for  long  scores  were  not  usual  there  ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  ordered  a  hackiiey-coach,  with- 
out having  yet  determined  whither  she  would  go  ;  but 
fully  determined  she  was,  wherever  she  went,  to  take 
Mr.  Booth  with  her. 

The  governor  was  now  approaching  with  a  long  roll 
of  paper,  when  a  faint  voice  was  heard  to  cry  out  has- 
tily, "  Where  is  he  V  and  presently  a  female  spectre, 
all  pale  and  breathless,  rushed  into  the  room,  and  fell 
into  Mr.  Booth's  arms,  where  she  immediately  fainted 
away. 

Booth  made  a  shift  to  support  his  lovely  burden, 
though  he  v.'as  himself  in  a  condition  very  little  different 
from  hers.  Miss  Matthews  likewise,  who  presently  rec- 
ollected the  face  of  Amelia,  was  struck  motionless  with 
the  surprise  ;  nay,  the  governor  himself,  though  not 
easily  moved  at  sights  of  horror,  stood  aghast,  and 
neither  offered  to  speak  nor  stir. 

Happily  for  Amelia,  the  governess  of  the  mansion  had, 
out  of  curiosity,  followed  her  into  the  room,  and  was 
the  only  useful  person  present  on  this  occasion:  she 
immediately  called  for  water,  and  ran  to  the  lady's  as- 
sistance, fell  to  loosening  her  stays,  and  performed  all 
the  ofhces  proper  at  such  a  season;  which  had  so  good 
an  effect,  that  Amelia  soon  recovered  the  disorder  which 
the  violent  agitation  of  her  spirits  had  caused,  and  found 
herself  alive  and  awake  in  her  husband's  arms. 

Some  tender  caresses,  and  a  soft  whisper  or  two, 
passed  privately  between  Booth  and  his  lady ;  nor  was 
it  without  great  difficulty  that  poor  Amelia  put  some 
restraint  on  her  fondness,  in  a  place  so  improper  for  a 
tender  interview.  She  now  cast  her  eyes  round  the 
room,  and  fixing  them  on  Miss  Matthews,  who  stood  like 
a  statue,  she  soon  recollected  her,  and  addressing  her  by 
her  name,  said,  "  Sure,  madam,  I  cannot  be  mistaken  in 
those  features  ;  though  meeting  you  here  might  almost 
make  me  suspect  my  memory." 

Miss  Matthews's  face  was  now  all  covered  with  scarlet. 
The  reader  may  easily  believe  she  was  on  no  account 
pleased  with  Amelia's  presence ;  indeed,  she  expected 
from  her  someof  those  insults,  of  which  virtuous  women 
are  generally  so  liberal  to  a  frail  sister ;  but  she  was 
mistaken.    AmeUa  was  not  one— 


142  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  Who  thought  the  nation  ne'er  would  thrive 
Till  all  the  w s  were  burnt  alive." 

Her  virtue  could  support  itself  with  its  own  intrinsic 
worth,  without  borrowing  any  assistance  from  the  vices 
of  other  women ;  and  she  considered  their  natural  in- 
firmities as  the  objects  of  pity,  not  of  contempt  or  ab- 
horrence. 

When  Amelia  therefore  perceived  the  visible  confu- 
sion in  Miss  Matthews,  she  presently  called  to  remem- 
brance some  stories  which  she  had  imperfectly  heard ; 
for  as  she  was  not  naturally  attentive  to  scandal,  and 
had  kept  very  little  company  since  her  return  to  Eng- 
land, she  was  far  from  being  mistress  of  the  lady's  whole 
history.  However,  she  had  heard  enough  to  impute 
her  confusion  to  the  right  cause  :  she  advanced  to  her, 
and  told  her,  she  was  extremely  sorry  to  meet  her  in 
such  a  place,  but  hoped  that  no  very  great  misfortune 
was  the  occasion  of  it. 

Miss  Matthews  began,  by  degrees,  to  recover  her 
spirits.  She  answered,  with  a  reserved  air,  "I  am 
much  obliged  to  you,  madam,  for  your  concern  :  we  are 
all  liable  to  misfortunes  in  this  world.  Indeed,  1  know 
not  why  I  should  be  much  ashamed  of  being  in  any 
place  where  I  am  in  such  good  company." 

Here  Booth  interposed.  He  had  before  acquainted 
Amelia,  in  a  whisper,  that  his  confinement  was  at  an 
end.  "  The  unfortunate  accident,  my  dear,"  said  he, 
"  which  brought  this  young  lady  to  this  melancholy 
place  is  entirely  determined,  and  she  is  now  as  abso- 
lutely at  her  liberty  as  myself." 

Amelia,  imputing  the  extreme  coldness  and  reserve 
of  the  lady  to  the  cause  already  mentioned,  advanced 
still  more  and  more  in  proportion  as  she  drew  back ; 
till  the  governor,  who  had  withdrawn  some  time,  re- 
turned, and  acquainted  Miss  Matthews  that  her  coach 
was  at  the  door ;  upon  which  the  company  soon  separ- 
ated. Amelia  and  Booth  went  together  in  Amelia's 
coach,  and  poor  Miss  Matthews  was  obliged  to  retire 
alone,  after  having  satisfied  the  demands  of  the  governor, 
which  in  one  day  only  had  amounted  to  a  pretty  consid- 
erable sum  ;  for  he,  with  great  dexterity,  proportioned 
the  bills  to  the  abilities  of  his  guests. 

It  may  seem,  perhaps,  wonderful  to  some  readers, 
',hat  Miss  Matthews  should  have  maintained  that  cold 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA,  143 

reserve  towards  Amelia,  so  as  barely  to  keep  within  the 
rules  of  civility,  instead  of  embracinsj  an  opportunity, 
which  seemed  to  oifer,  of  gaining  some  degree  of  inti- 
macy with  a  wife  whose  husband  she  was  so  fond  of; 
but,  besides  that  her  spirits  were  entirely  disconcerted 
by  so  sudden  and  unexpected  a  disappointment,  and  be- 
sides the  extreme  horrors  which  she  conceived  at  the 
presence  of  her  rival,  there  is,  I  believe,  something  so 
outrageously  suspicious  in  the  nature  of  all  vice,  espe- 
cially when  joined  with  any  great  degree  of  pride, 
that  the  eyes  of  those  whom  we  imagine  privy  to  our 
failings  are  intolerable  to  us  ;  and  we  are  apt  to  aggra- 
vate their  opinions  to  our  disadvantage  far  beyond  the 
reality. 


Chapter  III. — Containing  wise  observations  of  the  author,  and 
other  matters. 

There  is  nothing  more  difficult  than  to  lay  down  any 
fixed  and  certain  rules  for  happiness,  or  indeed  to  judge, 
with  any  precision,  of  the  happiness  of  others,  from  the 
knowledge  of  external  circumstances.  There  is  some- 
times a  little  speck  of  black  in  the  brightest  and  gayest 
colours  of  fortune,  which  contaminates  and  deadens 
the  whole  :  on  the  contrary,  when  all  without  looks 
dark  and  dismal,  there  is  often  a  secret  ray  of  light 
within  the  mind  which  turns  everything  to  real  joy  and 
gladness. 

I  have,  in  the  course  of  my  life,  seen  many  occasions 
to  make  this  observation  ;  and  Mr.  Booth  was  at  present 
a  very  pregnant  instance  of  its  truth.  He  was  just  de- 
livered from  a  prison,  and  in  the  possession  of  his  be- 
loved wife  and  children  ;  and  (which  might  be  imagined 
greatly  to  augment  his  joy)  fortune  had  done  all  this  for 
him  within  an  hour,  without  giving  him  the  least  warn- 
ing or  reasonable  expectation  of  this  strange  reverse  in 
his  circumstances  ;  and  yet  it  is  certain,  that  there  were 
very  few  men  in  the  world  more  seriously  miserable 
than  he  was  at  this  instant.  A  deep  melancholy  seized 
his  mind,  and  cold  damp  sweats  overspread  his  person, 
so  that  he  was  scarce  animated  ;  and  poor  Amelia,  in- 
stead of  a  fond,  warm  husband,  bestowed  her  caresses 
on  a  dull,  lifeless  lump  of  clay.    He  endeavoured,  how- 


144  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

ever,  at  first,  as  much  as  possible,  to  conceal  what  h& 
felt,  and  attempted^  what  is  the  hardest  of  all  tasks,  to 
act  the  part  of  a  happy  man  ;  but  he  foimd  no  supply  of 
spirits  to  carry  on  his  deceit,  and  would  have  probably 
sunk  under  his  attempt,  had  not  poor  Amelia's  simplicity 
helped  him  to  another  fallacy,  in  which  he  had  much 
better  success. 

This  worthy  woman  very  plainly  perceived  the  dis- 
order in  her  husband's  mind  ;  and  having  no  doubt  of 
the  cause  of  it,  especially  when  she  saw  the  tears  stand 
in  his  eyes  at  the  sight  of  his  children,  threw  her  arms 
round  his  neck,  and,  embracing  him  with  rapturous  fond- 
ness, cried  out,  "  My  dear  Billy,  let  nothing  make  you 
uneasy  :  Heaven  will,  I  doubt  not,  provide  for  us  and 
these  poor  babes.  Great  fortunes  are  not  necessary  to 
happiness :  for  my  own  part,  I  can  level  my  mind  with 
any  state ;  and  for  those  poor  little  things,  whatever 
condition  of  life  we  breed  them  to,  that  will  be  sufficient 
to  maintain  them  in.  How  many  thousands  abound  in 
affluence,  whose  fortunes  are  much  lower  than  ours ! 
for  it  is  not  from  nature,  but  from  education  and  habit, 
that  our  wants  are  chiefly  derived.  Make  yourself  easy, 
therefore,  my  dear  love;  for  you  have  a  wife  who  will 
think  herself  happy  with  you,  and  endeavour  to  make 
you  so  in  any  situation.  Fear  nothing,  Billy  ;  industry 
will  always  provide  us  a  wholesome  meal ;  and  I  will 
take  care  that  neatness  and  cheerfulness  shall  make  it 
a  pleasant  one." 

Booth  presently  took  the  cue  which  she  had  given 
him.  He  fixed  his  eyes  on  her  for  a  minute  with  great 
earnestness  and  inexpressible  tenderness ;  and  then 
cried,  "  Oh,  my  Amelia,  how  much  are  you  my  superior 
in  every  perfection  !  how  wise,  how  great,  how  noble 
are  your  sentiments  !  Why  can  I  not  imitate  what  I  so 
much  admire  ]  why  can  I  not  look  with  your  constancy 
on  those  dear  little  yjledges  of  our  loves  1  All  my  phi- 
losophy is  baffled  with  the  thought  that  my  Amelia's 
children  are  to  strus^gle  v.ith  a  cruel,  hard,  unfeeling 
world,  and  to  buffet  those  waves  of  fortune  which  have 
overwhelmed  their  father.  Here  I  own  I  want  your 
firmness,  and  am  not  without  an  excuse  for  wanting  it ; 
for  am  I  not  the  cruel  cause  of  all  your  wretchedness  1 
have  I  not  stepped  between  you  and  fortune,  and  been 
the  cursed  obstacle  to  all  your  greatness  and  happiness  V 

"  Say  not  so,  my   love,"   answered   she  :    "  great    i 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  145 

might  have  been,  but  never  happy  with  any  other  man. 
Indeed,  dear  Billy,  I  laugh  at  the  fears  you  formerly 
raised  in  me:  what  seemed  so  terrible  at  a  distance, 
now  it  approaches  nearer,  appears  to  have  been  a  mere 
bugbear :  and  let.  this  comfort  you  ;  that  I  look  on  my- 
self  at  this  day  as  the  happiest  of  women ;  nor  have  I 
done  anything  which  I  do  not  rejoice  in,  and  would,  if  I 
had  the  gift  of  prescience,  do  again." 

Booth  was  so  overcome  with  this  behaviour,  that  he 
had  no  words  to  answer;  to  say  the  truth,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  find  any  worthy  of  the  occasion.  He  threw 
himself  prostrate  at  her  feet,  whence  poor  Amelia  was 
forced  to  use  all  her  strength,  as  well  as  entreaties,  to 
raise,  and  place  him  in  his  chair. 

Such  is  ever  the  fortitude  of  perfect  innocence,  and 
such  the  depression  of  guilt  in  minds  not  utterly  aban- 
doned. Booth  was  naturally  of  a  sanguine  temper ;  nor 
would  any  such  apprehensions  as  he  mentioned  have 
been  sufficient  to  have  restrained  his  joy  at  meeting 
with  his  Amelia  :  in  fact,  a  reflection  on  the  injury  he 
had  done  her  was  the  sole  cause  of  his  grief :  this  it 
was  that  enervated  his  heart,  and  threw  him  into  ago- 
nies, which  all  that  profusion  of  heroic  tenderness,  that 
the  most  excellent  of  women  intended  for  his  comfort, 
served  only  to  heighten  and  aggravate  ;  as  the  more  she 
rose  in  his  admiration,  the  more  she  quickened  his  sense 
of  his  own  unworthiness. 

After  a  disagreeable  evening,  the  first  of  that  kind 
that  he  had  ever  passed  with  his  Amelia,  in  which  he 
had  the  utmost  difficulty  to  force  a  little  cheerfulness, 
and  in  which  her  spirits  were  at  length  overpowered  by 
discerning  the  oppression  on  his,  they  retired  to  rest,  or 
rather  to  misery,  which  need  not  be  described. 

The  next  morning,  at  breakfast,  Booth  began  to  re- 
cover a  little  from  his  melancholy,  and  to  taste  the  com- 
pany of  his  children.  He  now  first  thought  of  inquiring 
of  Amelia  by  what  means  she  had  discovered  the  place 
of  his  confinement.  Amelia,  after  gently  rebuking  him 
for  not  having  himself  acquainted  her  with  it,  informed 
him  that  it  was  known  all  over  the  country,  and  that 
she  had  traced  the  original  of  it  to  her  sister,  who  had 
spread  the  news  with  a  malicious  joy,  and  added  a  cir- 
cumstance which  would  have  frightened  her  to  death, 
had  not  her  knowledge  of  him  made  her  give  little  credit 
to  it,  which  was,  that  he  was  committed  for  murder. 
13  G 


146  THE    HISTORY    OP    AxMELIA. 

But  though  she  had  discredited  this  part,  she  said,  that 
not  hearing  from  him,  during  several  successive  posts, 
made  her  too  apprehensive  of  the  rest ;  that  she  got  a 
conveyance  therefore  for  herself  and  children  to  Salis- 
bury, from  whence  the  stagecoach  had  brought  them  to 
town  ;  and  having  deposited  the  children  at  his  lodging, 
of  which  he  had  sent  her  an  account  on  his  first  arrival 
in  town,  she  took  a  hack,  and  came  directly  to  the 
prison  where  she  heard  he  was,  and  where  she  found 
him. 

Booth  excused  himself,  and  with  truth,  as  to  his  not 
having  written ;  for,  in  fact,  he  had  written  twice  from 
the  prison,  though  he  had  mentioned  nothing  of  his  con- 
finement ;  but,  as  he  sent  away  his  letters  after  nine  at 
night,  the  fellow  to  whom  they  were  intrusted  had 
burnt  them  both,  for  the  sake  of  putting  the  twopence 
in  his  own  pocket,  or  rather  in  the  pocket  of  the  keeper 
of  the  next  gin-shop. 

As  to  the  account  which  Amelia  gave  him,  it  served 
rather  to  raise  than  satisfy  his  curiosity.  He  began  to 
suspect  that  some  person  had  seen  both  him  and  Miss 
Matthews  together  in  the  prison,  and  had  confounded 
her  case  with  his  ;  and  this  the  circumstance  of  murder 
made  the  more  probable:  but  who  this  person  should 
be,  he  could  not  guess.  After  giving  himself  therefore 
some  pains  in  forming  conjectures  to  no  purpose,  he 
was  forced  to  rest  contented  with  his  ignorance  of  the 
real  truth. 

Two  or  three  days  now  passed  without  producing 
anything  remarkable,  unless  it  were,  that  Booth  more 
and  more  recovered  his  spirits,  and  had  now  almost  re- 
gained his  former  degree  of  cheerfulness,  when  the  fol- 
lo\^^ng  letter  arrived,  again  to  torment  him : — 

"Dear  Bir.Lr, 
"  To  convince  you  I  am  the  most  reasonable  of  women,  I  have 
given  you  up  three  whole  days  to  the  unmolested  possession  of  my 
fortunate  rival.  I  can  refrain  no  longer  from  letting  you  know  that  1 
lodge  in  Dean-street,  not  far  from  the  church,  at  the  sign  of  the 
Pelican  and  Trumpet,  where  I  expect  this  evening  to  see  you.  Be- 
lieve me,  I  am,  with  more  affection  than  any  other  woman  m  the 
world  can  be,  my  dear  Billy,  your  affectionate,  fond,  doting, 

"F.  Matthews." 

Booth  tore  the  letter  with  rage,  and  threw  it  into  the 
fire ;  resolving  never  to  visit  the  lady  more,  unless  it 
was  to  pay  her  the  money  she  had  lent  him,  which  he 


i 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  147 

was  determined  to  do  the  very  first  opportunity ;  for  it 
was  not  at  present  in  his  power. 

This  letter  threw  him  back  into  his  fit  of  dejection,  in 
which  he  had  not  continued  long,  when  a  packet  from 
the  country  brought  him  the  following  from  his  friend 
Dr.  Harrison: — 

"Sir,  Lyons,  Jan.  21,  N.  S. 

"  Though  I  am  now  on  my  return  home,  I  have  taken  up  my  pen 
to  communicate  to  you  some  news  1  have  heard  from  England, 
which  gives  me  much  uneasiness,  and  concerning  which  I  can  in- 
deed deliver  my  sentiments  with  much  more  ease  this  way  than  any 
other.  In  my  answer  to  your  last,  I  very  freely  gave  you  my  opinion, 
in  which  it  was  my  misfortune  to  disapprove  of  every  step  you  had 
taken  ;  but  those  were  all  pardonable  errors.  Can  you  be  so  partial 
to  yourself,  upon  cool  and  sober  reflection,  to  think  what  I  am  going 
to  mention  is  so  ?  I  promise  you,  it  appears  to  me  a  folly  of  so  mon- 
strous a  kind,  that,  had  1  h^eardit  from  any  but  a  person  of  the  highest 
honour,  I  should  have  rejected  it  as  utterly  incredible.  I  hope  you 
already  guess  what  I  am  about  to  name  ;  since  Heaven  forbid  your 
conduct  should  afford  you  any  choice  of  such  gross  instances  of 
weakness  !  In  a  word,  then,  you  have  set  up  an  equipage.  What 
shall  I  invent  in  your  excuse,  either  to  others  or  to  myself .'  In  truth, 
I  can  find  no  excuse  for  you,  and,  what  is  more,  I  am  certain  you 
can  find  none  for  yourself.  I  must  deal,  therefore,  very  plainly  and 
sincerely  with  you.  Vanity  is  always  contemptible;  but,  when 
joined  with  dishonesty,  it  becomes  odious  and  detestable.  At  whose 
expense  are  you  to  support  this  equipage  ?  Is  it  not  entirely  at  the 
■expense  of  others  ?  and  will  it  not  finally  end  in  the  ruin  of  your 
poor  wife  and  children  ?  You  know  you  are  two  years  in  arrears  to 
me.  If  1  could  impute  this  to  any  extraordinary  or  common  accident, 
I  think  I  should  never  have  mentioned  it ;  but  I  will  not  suffer  my 
money  to  support  the  ridiculous,  and,  I  must  say,  criminal  vanity  of 
any  one  :  I  expect,  therefore,  to  find,  at  my  return,  that  you  have 
either  discharged  my  whole  debt  or  your  equipage.  Let  me  beg  you 
seriously  to  consider  your  circumstances  and  condition  in  hfe,  and  to 
remember  that  your  situation  will  not  justify  any  the  least  unnecessary 
expense.  '  Simply  to  be  poor,'  says  my  favourite  Greek  historian, 
^  was  not  held  scandalous  by  the  wise  Athenians ;  but  highly  so,  to 
owe  that  poverty  to  our  own  indiscretion.'  Present  my  affections  to 
Mrs.  Booth,  and  be  assured  that  I  shall  not,  without  great  reason, 
and  great  pain  too,  ever  cease  to  be  your  most  faithful  friend, 

"  R.  Harrison.'* 

Had  this  letter  come  at  any  other  time,  it  would  have 
given  Booth  the  most  sensible  affliction  ;  but  so  totally 
had  the  affair  of  Miss  Matthews  possessed  his  mind, 
that,  like  a  man  in  the  most  raging  fit  of  the  gout,  he 
was  scarce  capable  of  any  additional  torture ;  nay,  he 
even  made  a  use  of  this  latter  epistle,  as  it  served  to  ac- 
count to  A.melia  for  that  concern  which  he  really  felt 
on  another  account.  The  poor  deceived  lady,  there- 
G2 


148  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

fore,  applied  herself  to  give  him  comfort  where  he  least 
wanted  it.  She  said  he  might  easily  perceive  that  the 
matter  had  been  misrepresented  to  the  doctor,  who 
would  not,  she  was  sure,  retain  the  least  anger  against 
him  when  he  knew  the  real  truth. 

After  a  short  conversation  on  this  subject,  in  which 
Booth  appeared  to  be  greatly  consoled  by  the  arguments 
of  his  wife,  they  parted :  he  went  to  take  a  walk  in 
the  Park,  and  she  remained  at  home  to  prepare  him  his 
dinner. 

He  was  no  sooner  departed,  than  his  little  boy,  not 
quite  six  years  old,  said  to  Amelia,  "  La!  mamma,  what 
is  the  matter  with  poor  papa  1  what  makes  him  look  so 
as  if  he  was  going  to  cry  ]  he  is  not  half  so  merry  as 
he  used  to  be  in  the  country."  Amelia  answered,  *'  Oh, 
my  dear,  your  papa  is  only  a  little  thoughtful ;  he  will 
be  merry  again  soon."  Then,  looking  fondly  on  her 
children,  she  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears,  and  cried, 
"  Oh  Heavens  !  what  have  these  poor  little  infants  done  ] 
why  will  the  barbarous  world  endeavour  to  starve  them, 
by  depriving  us  of  our  only  friend]  Oh,  my  dear,  your 
father  is  ruined,  and  we  are  undone  I''  The  children 
presently  accompanied  their  mother's  tears,  and  the 
daughter  cried,  "  Why  will  anybody  hurt  poor  papa? 
has^^he  done  any  harm  to  anybody!"  "No,  my  dear 
child,"  said  the  mother :  "  he  is  the  best  man  in  the 
world,  and  therefore  they  hate  him."  Upon  which,  the 
boy,  who  was  extremely  sensible  at  his  years,  answered, 
"  Nay,  mamma,  how  can  that  be  1  have  you  not  often 
told  me,  that  if  I  was  good,  everybody  would  love  me  ?" 
"  All  good  people  will,"  answered  she.  "  Why  don't 
they  love  papa  tnen  V  replied  the  child  ;  "  for  I  am  sure 
he  is  very  good."  "So  they  do,  my  dear,"  said  the 
mother :  "  but  there  are  more  bad  people  in  the  world, 
and  they  will  hate  you  for  your  goodness."  "  W'hy  then, 
bad  people,"  cries  the  child,  "  are  loved  by  more  than 
the  good." — "  No  matter  for  that,  my  dear,"  said  she  : 
"  the  love  of  one  good  person  is  more  worth  having, 
than  that  of  a  thousand  wicked  ones  :  nay,  if  there  was 
no  such  person  in  the  world,  still  you  must  be  a  good 
boy ;  for  there  is  One  in  heaven  who  will  love  you,  and 
his  love  is  better  for  you  than  that  of  all  mankind." 

This  little  dialogue,  we  are  apprehensive,  will  be  read 
with  contempt  by  many :  indeed,  we  should  not  have 
thought  it  worth  recording,  was  it  not  for  the  excellent 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  149 

example  which  Amelia  here  gives  to  all  mothers.  This 
admirable  woman  never  let  a  day  pass  without  instruct- 
ing her  children  in  some  lesson  of  religion  and  mo- 
rality ;  by  which  means  she  had,  in  their  tender  minds, 
so  strongly  annexed  the  ideas  of  fear  and  shame  to  every 
idea  of  evil  of  which  they  were  susceptible,  that  it  must 
require  great  pains  and  length  of  habit  to  separate  them. 
Though  she  was  the  tenderest  of  mothers,  she  never 
suffered  any  symptom  of  malevolence  to  show  itself  in 
their  most  trifling  actions  without  discouragement,  with- 
out rebuke  ;  and,  if  it  broke  forth  with  any  rancour,  with- 
out punishment :  in  which  she  had  such  success,  that 
not  the  least  marks  of  pride,  envy,  malice,  or  spite  dis- 
covered itself  in  any  of  their  little  words  or  deeda. 


Chapter  IV.— In  which  Amelia  appears  in  no  unamiable  light. 

Amelia,  with  the  assistance  of  a  little  girl,  who  was 
their  only  servant,  had  dressed  her  dinner ;  and  she 
had  likewise  dressed  herself  as  neat  as  any  lady,  who 
had  a  regular  set  of  servants,  could  have  done ;  when 
Booth  returned,  and  brought  with  him  his  friend  James, 
whom  he  had  met  with  in  the  Park  ;  and  who,  as  Booth 
absolutely  refused  to  dine  away  from  his  wife,  to  whom 
he  had  promised  to  return,  had  invited  himself  to  dine 
with  him.  Amelia  had  none  of  that  paltry  pride  which 
possesses  so  many  of  her  sex,  and  which  disconcerts 
their  tempers,  and  gives  them  the  air  and  looks  of  furies, 
if  their  husbands  bring  in  an  unexpected  guest,  without 
giving  them  timely  warning  to  provide  a  sacrifice  to 
their  own  vanity.  Amelia  received  her  husband's  friend 
with  the  utmost  complaisance  and  good  humour :  she 
made,  indeed,  some  apology  for  the  homeliness  of  her 
dinner ;  but  it  was  politely  turned  as  a  compliment  to 
Mr.  James's  friendship,  which  could  carry  him  where 
he  was  sure  of  being  so  ill  entertained  ;  and  gave  not 
the  least  hint  how  magnificently  she  would  have  pro- 
vided, had  she  expected  th«  favour  of  so  much  good 
company  ; — a  phrase  which  is  generally  meant  to  con- 
tain, not  only  an  apology  for  the  lady  of  the  house,  but 
a  tacit  satire  on  her  guests  for  their  intrusion,  and  is  at 
least  a  strong  insinuation  that  they  are  not  welcome. 

Amelia  failed  not  to  inquire  very  earnestly  after  her 
13* 


150  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

old  friend  Mrs.  James,  formerly  Miss  Bath,  and  was  very 
sorry  to  find  she  was  not  in  town.  The  truth  was,  as 
James  had  married  out  of  a  violent  liking  of,  or  appetite 
to,  her  person,  possession  had  surfeited  him;  and  he 
was  now  grown  so  heartily  tired  of  his  wife,  that  she 
had  very  little  of  his  company :  she  was  forced  there- 
fore to  content  herself  with  being  the  mistress  of  a  large 
house  and  equipage  in  the  country,  ten  months  in  the 
year  by  herself:  the  other  two  he  indulged  her  with  the 
diversions  of  the  town ;  but  then,  though  they  lodged 
under  the  same  roof,  she  had  little  more  of  her  hus- 
band's society  than  if  they  had  been  one  hundred  miles 
apart.  With  all  this,  as  she  was  a  woman  of  calm  pas- 
sions, she  made  herself  contented  ;  for  she  had  never 
had  any  violent  affection  for  James:  the  match  was  of 
the  prudent  kind,  and  to  her  advantage  ;  for  his  fortune, 
by  the  death  of  an  uncle,  was  become  very  considera- 
ble ;  and  she  had  gained  everything  by  the  bargain  but 
a  husband,  which  her  constitution  suffered  her  to  be 
very  v/ell  satisfied  without. 

When  Amelia,  after  dinner,  retired  to  her  children, 
James  began  to  talk  to  his  friend  concerning  his  af- 
fairs. He  advised  Booth  very  earnestly  to  think  of 
getting  again  into  the  army,  in  which  he  himself  had 
met  with  such  success,  that  he  had  obtained  the  com- 
mand of  a  regiment,  to  which  his  brother-in-law  was 
lieutenant  colonel.  These  preferments  they  both  owed 
to  the  favour  of  fortune  only  ;  for  though  there  was 
no  objection  to  either  of  their  military  characters,  yet 
neither  of  them  had  any  extraordinary  desert ;  and,  if 
merit  in  the  service  was  a  sufficient  recommendation, 
Booth,  who  had  been  twice  wounded  in  the  siege,  seemed 
to  have  the  fairest  pretensions  ;  but  he  remained  a  poor 
half-pay  lieutenant,  and  the  others  were,  as  we  have 
said,  one  of  them  a  lieutenant  colonel,  and  the  other 
had  a  regiment.  Such  rises  we  often  see  in  life,  with- 
out being  able  to  give  any  satisfactory  account  of  the 
means,  and  therefore  ascribe  them  to  the  good  fortune 
of  the  person. 

Both  Colonel  James  and  his  brother-in-law  were  mem- 
bers of  parliament ;  for,  as  the  uncle  of  the  former  had 
left  him,  together  with  his  estate,  an  almost  certain  in- 
terest in  a  borough,  so  he  chose  to  confer  this  favour  on 
Colonel  Bath  ;  a  circumstance  which  would  have  been 
highly  immaterial  to  mention  here,  but  as  it  serves  to 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  151 

set  forth  the  goodness  of  James,  who  endeavoured  to 
make  up  in  kindness  to  the  family,  what  he  wanted  in 
fondness  for  his  wife. 

Colonel  James  then  endeavoured  all  in  his  power  to 
persuade  Booth  to  think  again  of  a  military  life,  and 
very  kindly  otfered  him  his  interest  towards  obtaining 
him  a  company  in  the  regiment  under  his  command. 
Booth  must  have  been  a  madman,  in  his  present  circum- 
stances, to  have  hesitated  one  moment  at  accepting 
such  an  offer  ;  and  he  well  knew  Amelia,  notwithstand- 
ing her  aversion  to  the  army,  was  much  too  wise  to 
make  the  least  scruple  of  giving  her  consent.  Nor  was 
he,  as  it  appeared  afterward,  mistaken  in  his  opinion 
of  his  wife's  understanding :  for  she  made  not  the  least 
objection  when  it  was  communicated  to  her,  but  con- 
tented herself  with  an  express  stipulation,  that  wher- 
ever he  was  commanded  to  go  (for  the  regiment  was 
now  abroad)  she  would  accompany  him. 

Booth,  therefore,  accepted  his  friend's  proposal  with 
a  profusion  of  acknowledgments  ;  and  it  was  agreed 
that  Booth  should  draw  up  a  memorial  of  his  preten- 
sions, which  Colonel  James  undertook  to  present  to 
some  man  of  power,  and  to  back  it  with  all  the  force 
he  had. 

Nor  did  the  friendship  of  the  colonel  stop  here.  "  You 
will  excuse  me,  dear  Booth,"  said  he,  "  if,  after  what 
you  have  told  me,"  (for  he  had  been  very  explicit  in  re- 
vealing his  affairs  to  him,)  "  I  suspect  you  must  want 
money  at  this  time.  If  that  be  the  case,  as  I  am  cer- 
tain it  must  be,  I  have  fifty  pieces  at  your  service." 
This  generosity  brought  the  tears  into  Booth's  eyes, 
and  he  at  length  confessed,  that  he  had  not  five  guineas 
in  the  house  ;  upon  which  James  gave  him  a  bank  bill 
for  twenty  pounds,  and  said  he  would  give  him  thirty 
more  the  next  time  he  saw  him. 

Thus  did  this  generous  colonel  (for  generous  he  really 
v/as  to  the  highest  degree)  restore  peace  and  comfort 
to  this  little  family;  and,  by  this  act  of  beneficence, 
make  two  of  the  worthiest  people  two  of  the  happiest 
that  evening. 

Here,  reader,  give  me  leave  to  stop  a  minute,  to 
lament  that  so  few  are  to  be  found  of  this  benign  dis- 
position ;  that,  while  wantonness,  vanity,  avarice,  and 
ambition  are  every  day  rioting  and  triumphing  in  the 
follies  and  weakness,  the  ruin  and  desolation  of  man- 


152  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

kind,  scarce  one  man  in  a  thousand  is  capable  of  tasting 
the  happiness  of  others.  Nay,  give  me  leave  to  wonder, 
that  pride,  which  is  constantly  struggling,  and  often  im- 
posing on  itself,  to  gain  some  little  pre-eminence,  should 
so  seldom  hint  to  us  the  only  certain,  as  well  as  lauda- 
ble way  of  setting  ourselves  above  another  man,  and 
that  is,  by  becoming  his  benefactor. 


Chapter  V. — Containing  a  eulogium  upon  innocence,  and  other 
grave  matters. 

Booth  passed  that  evening,  and  all  the  succeeding  day, 
with  his  Amelia,  without  the  interruption  of  almost  a  sin- 
gle thought  concerning  Miss  Matthews,  after  having  de- 
termined to  go  on  the  Sunday,  the  only  day  he  could 
venture  without  the  verge  in  the  present  state  of  his 
affairs,  and  pay  her  what  she  had  advanced  for  him  in  the 
prison.  But  she  had  not  so  long  patience  ;  for  the  third 
day,  while  he  was  sitting  with  Amelia,  a  letter  was 
brought  to  him.  As  he  knew  the  hand,  he  immediately 
put  it  into  his  pocket  unopened,  not  without  such  an  al- 
teration in  his  countenance,  that,  had  Amelia,  who  was 
then  playing  with  one  of  the  children,  cast  her  eyes  to- 
wards him,  she  must  have  remarked  it.  This  accident, 
however,  luckily  gave  him  time  to  recover  himself;  for 
Amelia  was  so  deeply  engaged  with  the  little  one,  that  she 
did  not  even  remark  the  delivery  of  the  letter.  The  maid 
soon  after  returned  into  the  room,  saying,  the  chairman 
desired  to  know  if  there  was  any  answer  to  the  letter. 
"  What  letter  ?"  cries  Booth.  "  The  letter  I  gave  you 
just  now,"  answered  the  girl.  "  Sure,"  cries  Booth,  "  the 
child  is  mad  !  you  gave  me  no  letter."  "  Yes,  indeed  I 
did,  sir,"  said  the  poor  girl.  "  Why  then,  as  sure  as  fate," 
cries  Booth,  "  I  threw  it  into  the  fire  in  my  revery  :  why, 
child,  why  did  you  not  tell  me  it  was  a  letter  ]  Bid  the 
chairman  come  up  :  stay,  I  will  go  down  myself  ;  for  he 
will  otherwise  dirt  the  stairs  with  his  feet." 

Amelia  was  gently  chiding  the  girl  for  her  carelessness, 
when  Booth  returned,  saying,  it  was  very  true  that  she 
had  delivered  him  a  letter  from  Colonel  James,  and  that 

Eerhaps  it  might  be  of  consequence.     "  However,"  says 
e,  ♦'  I  will  step  to  the  coffee-house,  and  send  him  an  ac- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  153 

count  of  this  strange  accident,  which  I  know  he  will  par- 
don in  my  present  situation." 

Booth  was  overjoyed  at  this  escape,  which  poor  Ame- 
lia's total  want  of  all  jealousy  and  suspicion  made  it 
very  easy  for  him  to  accomplish;  but  his  pleasure  was 
considerably  abated  when,  upon  opening  the  letter,  he 
found  it  to  contain,  mixed  with  several  very  strong  ex- 
pressions of  love,  some  pretty  warm  ones  of  the  upbraid- 
ing kind ;  but  what  most  alarmed  him  was  a  hint,  that  it 
was  in  her  (Miss  Matthews's)  power  to  make  Amelia  as 
miserable  as  herself.  Besides  the  general  knowledge  of 
furens  quid  fcsmina  possit, 

he  had  more  particular  reasons  to  apprehend  the  rage  of 
a  lady  who  had  given  so  strong  an  instance  how  far  she 
could  carry  her  revenge.  She  had  already  sent  a  chair- 
man to  his  lodgings,  with  a  positive  command  not  to  re- 
turn without  an  answer  to  her  letter.  This  might,  of 
itself,  have  possibly  occasioned  a  discovery ;  and  he 
thought  he  had  great  reason  to  fear,  that  if  she  did  not 
carry  matters  so  far  as  purposely  and  avowedly  to  reveal 
the  secret  to  Amelia,  her  indiscretion  would  at  least  effect 
the  discovery  of  that  which  he  would  at  any  price  have 
concealed.  Under  these  terrors,  he  might,  I  believe,  be 
considered  as  the  most  wretched  of  human  beings. 

Oh,  innocence,  how  glorious  and  happy  a  portion  art 
thou  to  the  breast  that  possesses  thee  !  thou  fearest  nei- 
ther the  eyes  nor  the  tongues  of  men.  Truth,  the  most 
powerful  of  all  things,  is  thy  strongest  friend ;  and  the 
brighter  the  light  is  in  which  thou  art  displayed,  the 
more  it  discovers  thy  transcendent  beauties.  Guilt,  on 
the  contrary,  like  a  base  thief,  suspects  every  eye  that 
beholds  him  to  be  privy  to  his  transgressions,  and  every 
tongue  that  mentions  his  name  to  be  proclaiming  them. 
Fraud  and  falsehood  are  his  weak  and  treacherous  allies  : 
and  he  lurks  trembling  in  the  dark,  dreading  every  ray 
of  light,  lest  it  should  discover  him,  and  give  him  up  to 
shame  and  punishment. 

While  Booth  was  walking  in  the  Park  with  all  these 
horrors  in  his  mind,  he  again  met  his  friend,  Colonel 
James,  who  soon  took  notice  of  that  deep  concern  which 
the  other  was  incapable  of  hiding.  After  some  little 
conversation,  Booth  said,  *'  My  dear  colonel,  I  am  sure  I 
must  be  the  most  insensible  of  men,  if  I  did  not  look  on 
you  as  the  best  and  the  truest  friend ;  I  will  therefore, 
G3 


1S4  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

witliout  scruple,  repose  a  confidence  in  you  of  the 
highest  kind.  I  have  often  made  you  privy  to  my  neces- 
sities, I  will  now  acquaint  you  with  my  shame,  provided 
you  have  leisure  enough  to  give  me  a  hearing :  for  I 
must  open  to  you  a  long  history  ;  since  I  will  not  reveal 
my  fault,  without  informing  you,  at  the  same  time,  of 
those  circumstances  which,  I  hope,  will  in  some  meas- 
ure excuse  it." 

The  colonel  very  readily  agreed  to  give  his  friend  a 
patient  hearing ;  so  they  walked  directly  to  a  coifee- 
house  at  the  corner  of  Spring  Gardens,  where,  being  in  a 
room  by  themselves,  Booth  opened  his  whole  heart,  and 
acquainted  the  colonel  with  his  amour  with  Miss  Mat- 
thews, from  the  very  beginning,  to  his  receiving  that 
letter  which  had  caused  all  his  present  uneasiness,  and 
which  he  now  delivered  into  his  friend's  hands. 

The  colonel  read  the  letter  very  attentively  twice  over, 
(he  was  silent,  indeed,  long  enough  to  have  read  it  often- 
er,)  and  then,  turning  to  Booth,  said,  "Well,  sir,  and  is 
it  so  grievous  a  calamity  to  be  the  object  of  a  younglady's 
affection,  especially  of  one  whom  you  allow  to  be  so 
extremely  handsome  V  "Nay,  but  my  dear  friend," 
cries  Booth, ''  do  not  jest  with  me  ;  you  who  know  my 
Amelia."  "  Weil,  my  dear  friend,"  answered  James, 
"  and  you  know  Amelia,  and  this  lady  too.  But  what 
would  you  have  me  do  for  you  V  "I  would  have  you 
give  me  your  advice,"  says  Booth,  "  by  what  method  I 
shall  get  rid  of  this  dreadful  woman  without  a  discovery." 
"  And  do  you  really,"  cries  the  other,  "  desire  to  get  rid 
of  her  V  "  Can  you  doubt  it,"  says  Booth,  "  after  what 
I  have  communicated  to  you,  and  after  what  you  your- 
self have  seen  in  my  family  1  for  I  hope,  notwithstanding 
this  fatal  slip,  I  do  not  appear  to  you  in  the  light  of  a 
profligate."  "  Well,"  answered  James,  "  and  whatever 
light  I  may  appear  to  you  in,  if  you  are  really  tired  of  the 
lady,  and  if  she  be  really  what  you  have  represented  her, 
I'll  endeavour  to  take  her  off  your  hands:  but  I  insist 
upon  it  that  you  do  not  deceive  me  in  any  particular." 
Booth  protested,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  that  every 
word  which  he  had  spoken  was  strictly  true  ;  and  being 
asked  whether  he  would  give  his  honour  never  more  to 
visit  the  lady,  he  assured  James  that  he  never  would. 
He  then,  at  his  friend's  request,  delivered  him  Miss  Mat- 
thews's  letter,  in  which  was  a  second  direction  to  her 
lodgings,  and  declared  to  him  that  if  he  could  bring  him 


THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA.  155 

safely  out  of  this  terrible  affair,  he  should  think  him- 
self to  have  a  still  higher  obligation  to  his  friendship, 
than  any  which  he  had  already  received  from  it. 

Booth  pressed  the  colonel  to  go  home  with  him  to 
dinner ;  but  he  excused  himself,  being,  as  he  said,  al- 
ready engaged.  However,  he  undertook  in  the  afternoon 
to  do  all  iji  his  power,  that  Booth  should  receive  no 
more  alarms  from  the  quarter  of  Miss  Matthews,  whom 
the  colonel  undertook  to  pay  all  the  demands  she  had  on 
his  friend.  They  then  separated.  The  colonel  went  to 
dinner  at  the  King's  Arms,  and  Booth  returned  in  high 
spirits  to  meet  his  Amelia. 

The  next  day,  early  in  the  morning,  the  colonel  came 
to  the  coffee-house,  and  sent  for  his  friend,  who  lodged 
but  at  a  little  distance.  The  colonel  told  him  he  had  a 
little  exaggerated  the  lady's  beauty ;  however,  he  said, 
he  excused  that ;  "  For  you  might  think,  perhaps,"  cries 
he,  "  that  your  inconstancy  to  the  finest  woman  in  the 
world  might  want  some  excuse.  Be  that  as  it  will," 
said  he,  "  you  make  yourself  easy  ;  as  it  will  be,  I  am 
convinced,  your  own  fault,  if  you  have  ever  any  farther 
molestation  from  Miss  Matthews." 

Booth  poured  forth,  very  warmly,  a  great  profusion  of 
gratitude  on  this  occasion  ;  and  nothing  more  anywise 
material  passed  at  this  interview,  which  was  very  short, 
the  colonel  being  in  a  great  hurry,  as  he  had,  he  said, 
some  business  of  very  great  importance  to  transact  that 
morning. 

The  colonel  had  now  seen  Booth  twice,  without  re- 
membering to  give  him  the  thirty  pounds.  This  the 
latter  imputed  entirely  to  forgetfulness  ;  for  he  had 
always  found  the  promises  of  the  former  to  be  equal  in 
value  to  the  notes  or  bonds  of  other  people.  He  was 
more  surprised  at  what  happened  the  next  day,  when, 
meeting  his  friend  in  the  Park,  he  received  only  a  cold 
salute  from  him  ;  and  though  he  passed  him  five  or  six 
times,  and  the  colonel  was  walking  with  a  single  officer 
of  no  great  rank,  and  with  whom  he  seemed  in  no  ear- 
nest conversation,  yet  could  not  Booth,  who  was  alone, 
obtain  any  farther  notice  from  him. 

This  gave  the  poor  man  some  alarm  ;  though  he 
could  scarce  persuade  himself  there  was  any  design  in 
all  this  coldness  or  forgetfulness.  Once  he  imagined 
that  he  had  lessened  himself  in  the  colonel's  opinion,  by 
having  discovered  his  inconstancy  to  Amelia ;  but  the 


156  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

known  character  of  the  other  presently  cured  him  of  the 
suspicion ;  for  he  was  a  perfect  hbertine  with  regard  to 
women  ;  that  being  indeed  the  principal  blemish  in  his 
character,  which  otherwise  might  have  deserved  much 
commendation  for  good-nature,  generosity,  and  friend- 
ship :  but  he  carried  this  one  to  a  most  unpardonable 
height ;  and  made  no  scruple  of  openly  declaring,  that 
if  he  ever  liked  a  woman  well  enough  to  be  uneasy  on 
her  account,  he  would  cure  himself,  if  he  could,  by  en- 
joying her,  whatever  might  be  the  consequence. 

Booth  could  not  therefore  be  persuaded  that  the  col- 
onel would  so  highly  resent  in  another  a  fault,  of  which 
he  was  himself  most  notoriously  guilty.  After  much 
consideration,  he  could  derive  this  behaviour  from  noth- 
ing better  than  a  capriciousness  in  his  friend's  temper  ; 
from  a  kind  of  inconstancy  of  mind,  which  makes  men 
grow  weary  of  their  friends,  with  no  more  reason  than 
they  often  are  of  their  mistresses.  To  say  the  truth, 
there  are  jilts  in  friendship  as  well  as  in  love  ;  and  by 
the  behaviour  of  some  men  in  both,  one  would  almost 
imagine  that  they  industriously  sought  to  gain  the  affec- 
tions of  others,  with  a  view  only  of  making  the  parties 
miserable. 

This  was  the  consequence  of  the  colonel's  behaviour 
to  Booth.  Former  calamities  had  afflicted  him,  but  this 
almost  distracted  him  ;  and  the  more  so,  as  he  was  not 
able  well  to  account  for  such  conduct,  nor  to  conceive 
the  reason  of  it. 

Amelia,  at  his  return,  presently  perceived  the  disturb- 
ance in  his  mind,  though  he  endeavoured,  with  his  ut- 
most power,  to  hide  it  ;  and  he  was  at  length  prevailed 
upon  by  her  entreaties  to  discover  to  her  the  cause  of  it ; 
which  she  no  sooner  heard,  than  she  applied  as  judicious 
a  remedy  to  his  disordered  spirits,  as  either  of  those 
great  mental  physicians,  Tully  or  Aristotle,  could  have 
thought  of.  She  used  many  arguments  to  persuade  him 
that  he  was  in  an  error,  and  had  mistaken  forgetfulness 
and  carelessness  for  a  designed  neglect. 

But,  as  this  physic  was  only  eventually  good,  and  as 
its  efficacy  depended  on  her  being  in  the  right,  a  point  in 
which  she  was  not  apt  to  be  too  positive,  she  thought 
fit  to  add  some  consolation  of  a  more  certain  and  posi- 
tive kind.  "  Admit,"  said  she,  "  my  dear,  that  Mr. 
James  should  prove  the  unaccountable  person  you  have 
suspected,  and  should,  without  being  able  to  allege  any 


i 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  157 

cause,  withdraw  his  friendship  from  you,  (for  surely  the 
accident  of  burning  his  letter  is  too  trifling  and  ridicu- 
lous to  mention,)  why  should  this  grieve  you  1  the  obli- 
gations he  has  conferred  on  you,  I  allow,  ought  to  make 
his  misfortunes  almost  your  own  ;  but  they  should  not, 
I  think,  make  you  see  his  faults  so  very  sensibly,  espe- 
cially when,  by  one  of  the  greatest  faults  in  the  world 
committed  against  yourself,  he  has  considerably  les- 
sened all  obligations  ;  for  sure,  if  the  same  person  who 
has  contributed  to  my  happiness  at  one  time,  does  every- 
thing in  his  power  maliciously  and  wantonly  to  make 
me  miserable  at  another,  I  am  very  little  obhged  to  such 
a  person.  And  let  it  be  a  comfort  to  my  dear  Billy, 
that,  however  other  friends  may  prove  false  and  fickle 
to  him,  he  has  one  friend,  whom  no  inconstancy  of  her 
own,  nor  any  change  of  his  fortune,  nor  time,  nor  age, 
nor  sickness,  nor  any  accident,  can  ever  alter;  but  who 
will  esteem,  will  love,  and  dote  on  him  for  ever."  So 
saying,  she  flung  her  snowy  arms  about  his  neck,  and 
gave  him  a  caress  so  tender,  that  it  seemed  almost  to 
balance  all  the  malice  of  his  fate. 

And,  indeed,  the  behaviour  of  Amelia  would  have 
made  him  completely  happy,  in  defiance  of  all  adverse 
circumstances,  had  it  not  been  for  those  bitter  ingredi- 
ents which  he  himself  had  thrown  into  his  cup;  and 
which  prevented  him  from  truly  relishing  his  Amelia's 
sweetness,  by  cruelly  reminding  him  how  unworthy 
he  was  of  this  excellent  creature. 

Booth  did  not  long  remain  in  the  dark  as  to  the 
conduct  of  James,  which,  at  first,  appeared  to  him  to  be 
so  great  a  mystery  ;  for  this  very  afternoon  he  received 
a  letter  from  Miss  Matthews,  which  unravelled  the  whole 
aff^air.  By  this  letter,  which  was  full  of  bitterness  and 
upbraiding,  he  discovered  that  James  was  his  rival  with 
that  lady,  and  was,  indeed,  the  identical  person  who  had 
sent  the  hundred-pound  note  to  Miss  Matthews,  when 
in  the  prison.  He  had  reason  to  believe  likewise,  as 
well  by  the  letter  as  by  other  circumstances,  that  James 
had  hitherto  been  an  unsuccessful  lover ;  for  the  lady, 
though  she  had  forfeited  all  title  to  virtue,  had  not  yet 
so  far  forfeited  all  pretensions  to  dehcacy,  as  to  be,  like 
the  dirt  in  the  street,  indifferently  common  to  all.  She 
distributed  her  favours  only  to  those  she  liked,  in  which 
number  that  gentleman  had  not  the  happiness  of  being 
included. 
14 


168  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

When  Booth  had  made  this  discovery,  he  was  not  so 
little  versed  in  human  nature,  as  any  longer  to  hesitate 
at  the  true  motive  of  the  colonel's  conduct ;  for  he  well 
knew  how  odious  a  sight  a  happy  rival  is  to  an  unfortu- 
nate lover.  1  beheve  he  was,  m  reality,  glad  to  assign 
the  cold  treatment  he  had  received  from  his  friend,  to  a 
cause  which,  however  unjustifia^ble,  is  at  the  same  time 
highly  natural ;  and  to  acquit  him  of  a  levity,  fickleness, 
and  caprice,  which  he  must  have  been  unwiUingly 
obliged  to  have  seen  in  a  much  worse  light. 

He  now  resolved  to  take  the  first  opportunity  of  ac- 
costing the  colonel,  and  of  coming  to  a  perfect  expla- 
nation upon  the  whole  matter.  He  debated,  likewise, 
with  himself,  whether  he  should  not  throw  himself  at 
Amelia's  feet,  and  confess  a  crime  to  her,  which  he 
found  so  little  hopes  of  concealing,  and  which  he  foresaw 
would  occasion  him  so  many  difficulties  and  terrors  to 
endeavour  to  conceal.  Happy  had  it  been  for  him,  had 
he  wisely  pursued  this  step  ;  since,  in  all  probability,  he 
would  have  received  immediate  forgiveness  from  the 
best  of  women:  but  he  had  not  sufficient  resolution;  or, 
to  speak  perhaps  more  truly,  he  had  too  much  pride  to 
confess  his  guilt ;  and  preferred  the  danger  of  the  high- 
est inconveniences  to  the  certainty  of  being  put  to  the 
blush. 


Chapter  "VI. — In  which  may  appear,  that  violence  is  sometimes 
done  to  the  name  of  love. 

When  that  happy  day  came,  in  which  unhallowed 
hands  are  forbidden  to  contaminate  the  shoulders  of  the 
unfortunate,  Booth  went  early  to  the  colonel's  house, 
and  being  admitted  to  his  presence,  began  with  great 
freedom,  though  with  great  gentleness,  lo  complain  of 
his  not  having  dealt  with  him  with  more  openness. 
"  Why,  my  dear  colonel,"  said  he,  "  would  you  not  ac- 
quaint me  with  that  secret  which  this  letter  has  dis- 
closed ?"  James  read  the  letter,  at  which  his  counte- 
nance changed  more  than  once ;  and  then,  after  a  short 
silence,  said,  "  Mr.  Booth,  I  have  been  to  blame,  1  own 
it ;  and  you  upbraid  me  with  justice.  The  true  reason 
was,  that  I  was  ashamed  of  my  own  folly.  D — n  me, 
Booth,  if  I  have  not  been  a  most  consummate  fool,  a 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  159. 

very  dupe  to  this  woman ;  and  she  has  a  particular 
pleasure  in  making  me  so.  I  know  what  the  imperti- 
nence of  virtue  is,  and  I  can  submit  to  it ;  but  to  be 
treated  thus  by  a  w — !  You  must  forgive  me,  dear 
Booth,  but  your  success  was  a  kind  of  triumph  over  me, 
which  I  could  not  bear.  I  own  I  have  not  the  least 
reason  to  conceive  any  anger  against  you ;  and  yet, 
curse  me,  if  I  should  not  have  been  less  displeased  at 
your  lying  with  my  own  wife :  nay,  I  could  almost 
have  parted  with  half  my  fortune  to  you  more  willingly, 
than  have  suffered  you  to  receive  that  trifle  of  my 
money  which  you  received  at  her  hands.  However,  I 
ask  your  pardon,  and  I  promise  you,  I  will  never  more 
think  of  you  with  the  least  ill-will  on  the  account  of 
this  woman ;  but  as  for  her,  d — n  me,  if  I  do  not  enjoy 
her  by  some  means  or  other,  whatever  it  costs  me ;  for 
1  am  already  above  two  hundred  pounds  out  of  pocket, 
without  having  scarce  had  a  smile  in  return." 

Booth  expressed  much  astonishment  at  this  declara- 
tion :  he  said,  he  could  not  conceive  how  it  was  pos- 
sible to  have  such  an  affection  for  a  woman,  who  did 
not  show  the  least  inclination  to  return  it.  James  gave 
her  a  hearty  curse,  and  said,  "  Pox  of  her  inclination ; 
I  want  only  the  possession  of  her  person  ;  and  that  you 
will  allow  is  a  very  fine  one.  But,  besides  my  passion 
for  her,  she  has  now  piqued  my  pride  :  for  how  can  a 
man  of  my  fortune  brook  being  refused  by  a  w —  1" 
"  Since  you  are  so  set  on  the  business,"  cries  Booth, 
"  you  will  excuse  my  saying  so,  I  fancy  you  had  better 
change  your  method  of  applying  to  her ;  for,  as  she  is, 
perhaps,  the  vainest  woman  upon  earth,  your  bounty 
may  probably  do  you  little  service  ;  nay,  may  rather 
actually  disoblige  her.  Vanity  is  plainly  her  predomi- 
nant passion,  and,  if  you  will  administer  to  that,  it  will 
infallibly  throw  her  into  your  arms.  To  this  I  attribute 
my  own  unfortunate  success.  While  she  relieved  my 
wants  and  distresses,  she  was  daily  feeding  her  own 
vanity ;  whereas,  as  every  gift  of  yours  asserted  your 
superiority,  it  rather  offended  than  pleased  her.  In- 
deed, women  generally  love  to  be  of  the  obliging  side ; 
and  if  v/e  examine  their  favourites,  we  shall  find  them 
to  be  much  oftener  such  as  they  have  conferred  obli- 
gations on,  than  such  as  they  have  received  them  from.'* 

There  was  something  in  this  speech  which  pleased 
the  colonel ;  and  he  said,  with  a  smile,  "  I  don't  know 


160  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

how  it  is,  Will,  but  you  know  women  better  than  I." 
"  Perhaps,  colonel,"  answered  Booth,  "  I  have  studied 
their  minds  more."  "  1  don't,  however,  much  envy  you 
your  knowledge,"  replied  the  other  ;  "  for  I  never  think 
their  minds  worth  considering.  However,  I  hope  I 
shall  profit  a  httle  by  your  experience  with  Miss  Mat- 
thews.     D n  seize  the  proud,  insolent  harlot !  the 

devil  take  me  if  I  don't  love  her  more  than  1  ever  loved 
a  woman !" 

The  rest  of  their  conversation  turned  on  Booth's  af- 
fairs. The  colonel  again  resumed  the  part  of  a  friend, 
gave  him  the  remainder  of  the  money,  and  promised  to 
take  the  first  opportunity  of  laying  his  memorial  before 
a  great  man. 

Booth  was  greatly  overjoyed  at  his  success.  Nothing 
now  lay  on  his  mind,  but  to  conceal  his  frailty  from 
Amelia,  to  whom  he  was  afraid  Miss  Matthews,  in  the 
rage  of  her  resentment,  would  communicate  it.  This 
apprehension  made  him  stay  almost  constantly  at  home ; 
and  he  trembled  at  every  knock  at  the  door.  His  fear, 
moreover,  betrayed  him  into  a  meanness  which  he  would 
have  heartily  despised  on  any  other  occasion  :  this  was 
to  order  the  maid  to  deliver  him  any  letter  directed  to 
Amelia  ;  at  the  same  time,  strictly  charging  her  not  to 
acquaint  her  mistress  with  her  having  received  any  such 
orders. 

A  servant  of  any  acuteness  would  have  formed  strange 
conjectures  from  such  an  injunction  ;  but  this  poor  girl 
was  of  perfect  simplicity  :  so  great  indeed  was  her  smi- 
plicity,  that  had  not  Amelia  been  void  of  all  suspicion  of 
her  husband,  the  maid  would  have  soon  after  betrayed 
her  master. 

One  afternoon,  while  they  were  drinking  tea,  little 
Betty,  so  was  the  maid  called,  came  into  the  room  ; 
and,  calling  her  master  forth,  delivered  him  a  card  which 
was  directed  to  Ameha.  Booth,  having  read  the  card, 
on  his  return  into  the  room,  chid  the  girl  for  calhng 
him,  saying,  "  If  you  can  read,  child,  you  must  see  it 
was  directed  to  your  mistress."  To  this  the  girl  an- 
swered, pertly  enough,  "  I  am  sure,  sir,  you  ordered  me 
to  bring  every  letter  first  to  you."  This  hint,  with 
many  women,  would  have  been  sufficient  to  have  blown 
up  the  whole  affair  ;  but  Amelia,  who  heard  what  the 
girl  said  through  the  medium  of  love  and  confidence, 
saw  the  matter  in  a  much  better  light  than  it  deserved ; 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  161 

and,  looking  tenderly  on  her  husband,  said,  "  Indeed,  my 
love,  I  must  blame  you  for  a  conduct,  which,  perhaps, 
I  ought  rather  to  praise,  as  it  proceeds  only  from  the 
extreme  tenderness  of  your  affection.  But  why  will 
you  endeavour  to  keep  any  secrets  from  me  ]  Believe 
me,  for  my  own  sake,  you  ought  not ;  for,  as  you  can- 
not hide  the  consequences,  you  make  me  always  sus- 
pect ten  times  worse  than  the  reality.  While  I  have 
you  and  my  children  well  before  my  eyes,  I  am  capable 
of  facing  any  news  which  can  arrive  ;  for  what  ill  news 
can  come,  unless  indeed  it  concerns  my  little  babe  in 
the  country,  which  does  not  relate  to  the  badness  of  our 
circumstances  ]  and  those,  I  thank  Heaven,  we  have 
now  a  fair  prospect  of  retrieving.  Besides,  dear  Billy, 
though  my  understanding  be  much  inferior  to  yours,  I 
have  sometimes  had  the  happiness  of  luckily  hitting  on 
some  argument  which  has  afforded  you  comfort.  This 
you  know,  my  dear,  was  the  case  with  regard  to  Colonel 
James,  whom  I  persuaded  you  to  think  you  had  mis- 
taken, and  you  see  the  event  proved  me  in  the  right." 
So  happily,  both  for  herself  and  Mr.  Booth,  did  the  ex- 
cellence of  this  good  woman's  disposition  deceive  her, 
and  force  her  to  see  everything  in  the  most  advantageous 
light  to  her  husband. 

The  card  being  now  inspected,  was  found  to  contain 
the  compliments  of  Mrs.  James  to  Mrs.  Booth,  with  an 
account  of  her  being  arrived  in  town,  and  having  brought 
with  her  a  very  great  cold.  Ameha  was  overjoyed  at 
the  news  of  her  arrival ;  and  having  dressed  herself  in 
the  utmost  hurry,  left  her  children  to  the  care  of  her 
husband,  and  ran  away  to  pay  her  respects  to  her  friend, 
whom  she  loved  with  a  most  sincere  affection.  But 
how  was  she  disappointed,  when,  eager  with  the  utmost 
impatience,  and  exulting  with  the  thoughts  of  presently 
seeing  her  beloved  friend,  she  was  answered  at  the  door 
that  the  lady  was  not  at  home  !  nor  could  she,  upon 
telling  her  name,  obtain  any  admission.  This,  consid- 
ering the  account  she  had  received  of  the  lady's  cold, 
greatly  surprised  her ;  and  she  returned  home  very  much 
vexed  at  her  disappointment. 

Amelia,  who  had  no  suspicion  that  Mrs.  James  was 
really  at  home,  and,  as  the  phrase  is,  was  denied,  would 
have  made  a  second  visit  the  next  morning,  had  she  not 
been  prevented  by  a  cold,  which  she  herself  now  got, 
and  which  was  attended  with  a  slight  fever.  This  con- 
14* 


162  THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA. 

fined  her  several  days  to  her  house,  during  which  Booth 
officiated  as  her  nurse,  and  never  stirred  from  her. 

In  all  this  time  she  heard  not  a  word  from  Mrs.  .lames, 
which  gave  her  some  uneasiness,  but  more  astonishment. 
The  tenth  day,  when  she  was  perfectly  recovered,  about 
nine  in  the  evening,  when  she  and  her  husband  were 
just  going  to  supper,  she  heard  a  most  violent  thunder- 
ing at  the  door,  and  presently  after  a  rustling  of  silk 
upon  the  staircase :  at  the  same  time  a  female  voice 
cried  out  pretty  loud,  "  Bless  me !  what,  am  I  to  climb 
up  another  pair  of  stairs  ?"  upon  which  A.melia,  who 
well  knew  the  voice,  presently  ran  to  the  door,  and 
ushered  in  Mrs.  James,  most  splendidly  dressed,  who  put 
on  as  formal  a  countenance,  and  made  as  formal  a  cour- 
tesy to  her  old  friend,  as  if  she  had  been  her  very  dis- 
tant acquaintance. 

Poor  Amelia,  who  was  going  to  rush  into  her  friend's 
arms,  was  struck  motionless  by  this  behaviour ;  but  re- 
collecting her  spirits,  as  she  had  an  excellent  presence 
of  mind,  she  presently  understood  what  the  lady  meant, 
and  resolved  to  treat  her  in  her  own  way.  Down,  there- 
fore, the  company  sat,  and  silence  prevailed  for  some 
time,  during  which  Mrs.  James  surveyed  the  room  with 
more  attention  than  she  would  have  bestowed  on  one 
much  finer.  At  length  the  conversation  began,  in  which 
the  weather  and  the  diversions  of  the  town  were  well 
canvassed.  Amelia,  who  was  a  woman  of  great  humour, 
performed  her  part  to  admiration ;  so  that  a  bystander 
would  have  doubted,  in  every  other  article  than  dress, 
which  of  the  two  was  the  most  accomplished  fine  lady. 

After  a  visit  of  twenty  minutes,  during  which  not  a 
word  of  any  former  occurrences  was  mentioned,  nor  in- 
deed any  subject  of  discourse  started,  except  only  those 
two  above  mentioned,  Mrs.  James  rose  from  her  chair 
and  retired  in  the  same  formal  manner  in  which  she  had 
approached.  We  will  pursue  her,  for  the  sake  of  the 
contrast,  during  the  rest  of  the  evening.  She  went  from 
Amelia  directly  to  a  rout,  where  she  spent  two  hours  in 
a  crowd  of  company,  talked  again  and  again  over  the 
diversions  and  news  of  the  town,  played  two  rubbers  at 
whist,  and  then  retired  to  her  own  apartment,  where, 
having  passed  another  hour  in  undressing  herself,  she 
went  to  her  own  bed. 

Booth  and  his  wife,  the  moment  their  companion  was 
gone,  sat  down  to  supper  on  a  piece  of  cold  meat,  the 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  163 

remains  of  their  dinner ;  after  which,  over  a  pint  of  wine, 
they  entertained  themselves  for  a  while  with  the  ridic- 
ulous behaviour  of  their  visitant.  But  Amelia,  declar- 
ing she  rather  saw  her  as  the  object  of  pity  than  anger, 
turned  the  discourse  to  pleasanter  topics.  The  little 
actions  of  their  children,  the  former  scenes  and  future 
prospects  of  their  life,  furnished  them  with  many  pleas- 
ant ideas ;  and  the  contemplation  of  Amelia's  recovery 
threw  Booth  into  raptures.  At  length  they  retired, 
happy  in  each  other. 

It  is  possible  some  readers  may  be  no  less  surprised 
at  the  behaviour  of  Mrs.  James  than  was  Amelia  her- 
self, since  they  may  have,  perhaps,  received  so  favour- 
able an  impression  of  that  lady  from  the  account  given 
of  her  by  Mr.  Booth,  that  her  present  demeanour  may 
seem  unnatural  and  inconsistent  with  her  former  char- 
acter. But  they  will  be  pleased  to  consider  the  great 
alteration  in  her  circumstances,  from  a  state  of  depend- 
ance  on  a  brother,  who  was  himself  no  better  than  a 
soldier  of  fortune,  to  that  of  being  wife  to  a  man  of  a 
very  large  estate,  and  considerable  rank  in  life.  And 
what  was  her  present  behaviour  more  than  that  of  a  fine 
lady,  who  considered  form  and  show  as  essential  in- 
gredients of  human  happiness;  and  imagined  all  friend- 
ship to  consist  in  ceremony,  courtesies,  messages,  and 
visits  1  In  which  opinion,  she  has  the  honour  to  think 
with  much  the  larger  part  of  one  sex,  and  no  small 
number  of  the  other. 


Chapter  VII. — Containing  a  very  extraordinary  and  pleasing  in- 
cident. 

The  next  evening,  Booth  and  Amelia  went  to  walk 
in  the  Park  with  their  children.  They  were  now  on  the 
verge  of  the  parade,  and  Booth  was  describing  to  hi^ 
wife  the  several  buildings  round  it ;  when,  on  a  sudden, 
Amelia,  missing  her  little  boy,  cried  out.  "Where's 
little  Billy  V  upon  which  Booth,  casting  his  eyes  over 
the  grass,  saw  a  foot-soldier  shaking  the  boy,  at  a  little 
distance.  At  this  sight,  without  making  any  answer  to 
his  wife,  he  leaped  over  the  rails,  and,  running  directly 
up  to  the  fellow,  who  had  a  firelock,  with  a  bayonet 
fixed,  ill  his  hand,  he  seized  him  by  the  collar,  and 


164  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

tripped  up  his  heels,  and,  at  the  same  time,  wrested  his 
arms  from  him.  A  sergeant  upon  duty,  seeing  the  affray 
at  some  distance,  ran  presently  up,  and  being  told  what 
had  happened,  gave  the  sentinel  a  hearty  curse,  and  told 
him  he  deserved  to  be  hanged.  A  bystander  gave  this 
information ;  for  Booth  was  returned  with  his  little  boy 
to  meet  Amelia,  who  staggered  towards  him  as  fast  as 
she  could,  all  pale  and  breathless,  and  scarce  able  to 
support  her  tottering  limbs.  The  sergeant  now  came  up 
to  Uooth,  to  make  an  apology  for  the  behaviour  of  the 
soldier,  when,  of  a  sudden,  he  turned  almost  as  pale  as 
Amelia  herself.  He  stood  silent,  while  Booth  was  em- 
ployed in  comforting  and  recovering  his  wife  ;  and  then, 
addressing  himself  to  him,  said,  "  Bless  me,  lieutenant ! 
could  I  imagine  it  had  been  your  honour  ]  and  was  it 
my  little  master  that  the  rascal  used  so  ?  I  am  glad  I 
did  not  know  it,  for  I  should  certainly  have  run  my  hal- 
berd into  him." 

Booth  presently  recognised  his  old  faithful  servant 
Atkinson,  and  gave  him  a  hearty  greeting,  saying,  he 
was  very  glad  to  see  him  in  his  present  situation. 
"  Whatever  1  am,"  answered  the  sergeant,  "  I  shall 
always  think  I  owe  it  to  your  honour."  Then,  taking 
the  little  boy  by  the  hand,  he  cried,  "  What  a  vast,  line 
young  gentleman  master  is  grown  !"  and,  cursing  the 
soldier's  inhumanity,  swore  heartily  he  would  make  him 
pay  for  it. 

As  Amelia  was  much  disordered  with  her  fright,  she 
did  not  recollect  her  foster-brother  till  he  was  intro- 
duced to  her  by  Booth  ;  but  she  no  sooner  knew  him, 
than  she  bestowed  a  most  obliging  smile  on  him  ;  and, 
calling  him  by  the  name  of  honest  Joe,  said  she  was 
heartily  glad  to  see  him  in  England.  "  See,  my  dear," 
cries  Booth,  "  what  preferment  your  old  friend  is  come 
to.  You  would  scarce  know  him,  I  believe,  in  his  pres- 
ent state  of  finery."  "  I  am  very  well  pleased  to  see 
it,"  answered  A^melia;  "and  I  wish  him  joy  of  being 
made  an  officer,  with  all  my  heart."  In  fact,  from  what 
Mr.  Booth  said,  joined  to  the  sergeant's  laced  coat,  she 
believed  that  he  had  obtained  a  commission.  So  weak 
and  absurd  is  human  vanity,  that  this  mistake  of  Amelia's 
possibly  put  poor  Atkinson  out  of  countenance ;  for  he 
looked  at  this  instant  more  silly  than  he  had  ever  done  in 
his  life ;  and,  making  her  a  most  respectful  bow,  muttered 


i 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  165 

something  about  obligations,  in  a  scarce  articulate  or 
intelligible  manner. 

The  sergeant  had,  indeed,  among  many  other  qualities, 
that  modesty  which  a  Latin  author  honours  by  the  name 
of  ingenuous.  Nature  had  given  him  this,  notwithstand- 
ing the  meanness  of  his  birth  ;  and  six  years'  conversa- 
tion in  the  army  had  not  taken  it  away.  To  say  the 
truth,  he  was  a  noble  fellow ;  and  Amelia,  by  supposing 
he  had  a  commission  in  the  guards,  had  been  guilty  of 
no  affront  to  that  honourable  body. 

Booth  had  a  real  affection  for  Atkinson,  though,  in 
fact,  he  knew  not  half  his  merit.  He  acquainted  him 
with  his  lodgings,  where  he  earnestly  desired  to  see 
him. 

Amelia,  who  was  far  from  being  recovered  from  the 
terrors  into  which  the  seeing  her  husband  engaged  with 
the  soldier  had  thrown  her,  desired  to  go  home ;  nor 
was  she  well  able  to  walk  without  some  assistance. 
While  she  supported  herself,  therefore,  on  her  husband's 
arm,  she  told  Atkinson  she  should  be  obhged  to  him  if 
he  would  take  care  of  the  children  :  he  readily  accepted 
the  office ;  but,  upon  offering  his  hand  to  miss,  she  re- 
fused, and  burst  into  tears:  upon  which,  the  tender  mo- 
ther resigned  Booth  to  her  children,  and  put  herself  under 
the  sergeant's  protection,  who  conducted  her  safe  home, 
though  she  often  declared  she  feared  she  should  drop 
down  by  the  way ;  the  fear  of  which  so  affected  the 
sergeant,  (for,  besides  the  honour  which  he  himself  had 
for  the  lady,  he  knew  how  tenderly  his  friend  loved  her,) 
that  he  was  unable  to  speak ;  and,  had  not  his  nerves 
been  so  strongly  braced  that  nothing  could  shake  them, 
he  had  enough  in  his  mind  to  have  set  him  a  trembling 
equally  with  the  lady. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  lodgings,  the  mistress  of  the 
house  opened  the  door,  who,  seeing  Amelia's  condition, 
threw  open  the  parlour,  and  begged  her  to  walk  in ; 
upon  which  she  immediately  flung  herself  into  a  chair, 
and  all  present  thought  she  would  have  fainted  away : 
however,  she  escaped  that  misery,  and,  having  drunk  a 
glass  of  w^ater  with  a  little  white  wine  mixed  in  it,  she 
began,  in  a  little  time,  to  regain  her  complexion  ;  and, 
at  length,  assured  Booth  that  she  was  perfectly  re- 
covered, but  declared  that  she  had  never  undergone  so 
much,  and  earnestly  begged  him  never  to  be  so  rash  in 
future.    She  then  called  her  little  boy,  and  gently  chid 


166  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

him,  saying,  "  You  must  never  do  so  more,  Billy  :  you 
see  what  mischief  you  might  have  brought  upon  your 
father ;  and  what  you  have  made  me  suffer."  "  La, 
mamma  !"  said  the  child,  "  what  harm  did  I  do  ?  I  did 
not  know  that  people  might  not  walk  in  the  green  fields 
in  London.  I  am  sure,  if  I  did  a  fauU,  the  man  punished 
me  enough  for  it ;  for  he  pinched  me  almost  through 
my  slender  arm."  He  then  bared  his  little  arm,  which 
was  greatly  discoloured  by  the  injury  it  had  received. 
Booth  uttered  a  most  dreadful  execration  at  this  sight; 
and  the  sergeant,  who  was  now  present,  did  the  like. 

Atkinson  now  returned  to  his  guard,  and  went  directly 
to  the  officer  to  acquaint  him  with  the  soldier's  inhu- 
manity ;  but  he,  who  was  about  fifteen  years  of  age, 
gave  the  sergeant  a  great  curse,  and  said  the  soldier  had 
done  very  well ;  for  that  idle  boys  ought  to  be  corrected. 
This,  however,  did  not  satisfy  poor  Atkinson,  who,  the 
next  day,  as  soon  as  the  guard  was  relieved,  beat  the 
fellow  most  unmercifully,  and  told  him  he  would  re- 
member him  as  long  as  he  stayed  in  the  regiment. 

Thus  ended  this  trifling  adventure,  which  some  readers 
will,  perhaps,  be  pleased  with  seeing  related  at  full 
length.  None,  I  think,  can  fail  drawing  one  observation 
from  it;  namely,  how  capable  the  most  insignificant 
accident  is  of  disturbing  human  happiness,  and  of  pro- 
duciniT  the  most  unexpected  and  dreadful  events  ;— a  re- 
flection which  may  serve  to  many  moral  and  religious 
uses. 

This  accident  produced  the  first  acquaintance  between 
the  mistress  of  tlie  house  and  her  lodgers  ;  for  hitherto 
they  had  scarce  exchanged  a  word  together.  But  the 
great  concern  which  the  good  woman  had  shown  on 
Amelia's  account  at  this  time,  was  not  likely  to  pass 
unobserved  or  unthanked  either  by  the  husband  or  wife. 
Amelia,  therefore,  as  soon  as  she  was  able  to  go  up 
stairs,  invited  Mrs.  Ellison  (for  that  was  her  name)  to 
her  apartment,  and  desired  the  favour  of  her  to  stay  to 
supper.  She  readily  complied,  and  they  passed  a  very 
agreeable  evening  together;  in  which  the  two  women 
seemed  to  have  conceived  a  most  extraordinary  liking 
to  each  other. 

Though  beauty  in  general  does  not  greatly  recom- 
mend one  woman  to  another,  as  it  is  too  apt  to  create 
envy ;  yet,  in  cases  where  this  passion  does  not  inter- 
fere, a  fine  woman  is  often  a  pleasing  object  even  to 


THE    HISTORY   OP    AMELIA.  167 

some  of  her  own  sex ;  especially  when  her  beauty  is 
attended  with  a  certain  air  of  affability,  as  was  that  of 
Amelia  in  the  highest  degree.  She  was,  indeed,  a  most 
charming  woman ;  and  1  know  not  whether  the  little 
scar  on  her  nose  did  not  rather  add  to,  than  diminish 
her  beauty. 

Mrs.  Ellison,  therefore,  was  as  much  charmed  with 
the  loveliness  of  her  fair  lodger  as  with  all  her  other 
engaging  qualities.  She  was,  indeed,  so  taken  with 
Amelia's  beauty,  that  she  could  not  refrain  from  crying 
out,  in  a  kind  of  transport  of  admiration,  "Upon  my 
word,  Captain  Booth,  you  are  the  happiest  man  in  the 
world !  Your  lady  is  so  extremely  handsome,  that  one 
cannot  look  at  her  without  pleasure." 

This  good  woman  herself  had  none  of  these  attract- 
ive charms  to  the  eye.  Her  person  was  short,  and  im- 
moderately fat ;  her  features  were  none  of  the  most 
regular  :  and  her  complexion  (if,  indeed,  she  ever  had 
a  good  one)  had  considerably  suffered  by  time. 

Her  good-humour  and  complaisance,  however,  were 
highly  pleasing  to  Amelia.  Nay,  why  should  we  con- 
ceal the  secret  satisfaction  which  that  lady  felt  from 
the  compliments  paid  to  her  person"?  since  such  of  my 
readers  as  like  her  best,  will  not  be  sorry  to  find  that  she 
was  a  woman. 


Chapter  VIII. — Containing  various  matters. 

A  FORTNIGHT  had  now  passed  since  Booth  had  seen  or 
heard  from  the  colonel;  which  did  not  a  little  surprise 
him,  as  they  had  parted  so  good  friends,  and  as  he  had 
so  cordially  undertaken  his  cause  concerning  the  me- 
morial, on  which  all  his  hopes  depended. 

The  uneasiness  which  this  gave  him  farther  increased, 
on  finding  that  his  friend  refused  to  see  him ;  for  he 
had  paid  the  colonel  a  visit  at  nine  in  the  morning, 
and  was  told  he  was  not  stirring;  and  at  hi^  return  back 
an  hour  afterward,  the  servant  said  his  master  was 
gone  out ;  of  which  Booth  was  certain  of  the  falsehood; 
for  he  had,  during  that  whole  hour,  walked  backward 
and  forward  within  sight  of  the  colonel's  door,  and 
must  have  seen  him  if  he  had  gone  out  within  that 
time. 


168  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

The  good  colonel,  however,  did  not  long  suffer  his 
friend  to  continue  in  the  deplorable  state  of  anxiety  ; 
for  the  very  next  morning  Booth  received  his  memorial 
enclosed  in  a  letter,  acquainting  him  that  Mr.  James 
had  mentioned  his  affair  to  the  person  he  proposed  ;  but 
that  the  great  man  had  so  many  engagements  on  his 
hands,  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  make  any 
farther  promises  at  this  time. 

The  cold  and  distant  style  of  this  letter,  and,  indeed, 
the  whole  behaviour  of  James,  so  different  from  what 
it  had  been  formerly,  had  something  so  mysterious  in  it, 
that  it  greatly  puzzled  and  perplexed  poor  Booth  ;  and 
it  was  so  long  before  he  was  able  to  solve  it,  that  the 
reader's  curiosity  will,  perhaps,  be  obliged  to  us  for  not 
leaving  him  so  long  in  the  dark  as  to  this  matter.  The 
true  reason,  then,  of  the  colonel's  conduct  was  this  : 
His  unbounded  generosity,  together  with  the  unbounded 
extravagance,  and  consequently  the  great  necessity,  of 
Miss  Matthews,  had,  at  length,  overcome  the  cruelty 
of  that  lady,  with  whom  he  likewise  had  luckily  no 
rival.  Above  all,  the  desire  of  being  revenged  on  Booth, 
with  whom  she  was,  to  the  highi^st  degree,  enraged, 
had,  perhaps,  contributed  not  a  little  to  his  success;  for 
she  had  no  sooner  condescended  to  a  familiarity  with 
her  new  lover,  and  discovered  that  Captain  James,  of 
whom  she  had  heard  so  much  from  Booth,  was  no  other 
than  the  identical  colonel,  than  she  employed  every  art 
of  which  she  was  mistress,  to  make  an  utter  breach  of 
friendship  between  these  two.  For  this  purpose,  she 
did  not  scruple  to  insinuate,  that  the  colonel  was  not  at 
all  obliged  to  the  character  given  of  him  by  his  friend ; 
and  to  the  account  of  this  latter  she  placed  most  of  the 
cruelty  which  she  had  shown  to  the  former. 

Had  the  colonel  made  a  proper  use  of  his  reason,  and 
fairly  examined  the  probability  of  the  fact,  he  could 
scarce  have  been  imposed  upon  to  believe  a  matter  so 
inconsistent  with  all  he  knew  of  Booth,  and  in  which 
that  gentleman  must  have  sinned  against  all  the  laws  of 
honour  without  any  visible  temptation.  But,  in  solemn 
fact,  the  colonel  was  so  intoxicated  with  his  love,  that 
it  was  in  the  power  of  his  mistress  to  have  persuaded 
him  of  anything :  besides,  he  had  an  interest  in  giving 
her  credit ;  for  he  was  not  a  little  pleased  with  finding  a 
reason  for  hating  the  man,  whom  he  could  not  help  ha- 
ting without  any  reason,  at  least,  without  any  which  he 


i 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  169 

durst  fairly  assign  even  to  himself.  Henceforth,  there- 
fore, he  abandoned  all  friendship  for  Booth ;  and  was 
more  inclined  to  put  him  out  of  the  world,  than  to  en- 
deavour any  longer  at  supporting  him  in  it. 

Booth  communicated  this  letter  to  his  wife,  who  en- 
deavoured, as  usual,  to  the  utmost  of  her  power,  to  con- 
sole him  under  one  of  the  greatest  afflictions  which,  I 
think,  can  befall  a  man,  namely,  the  unkindness  of  a 
friend :  but  he  had  luckily  at  the  same  time  the  greatest 
blessing  in  his  possession,  the  kindness  of  a  faithful  and 
beloved  wife ;  a  blessing,  however,  which,  though  it 
compensates  most  of  the  evils  of  life,  rather  serves  to 
aggravate  the  misfortune  of  distressed  circumstances, 
from  the  consideration  of  the  share  which  she  is  to  bear 
in  them. 

This  afternoon  Amelia  received  a  second  visit  from 
Mrs.  Ellison,  M^ho  acquainted  her  that  she  had  a  present 
of  a  ticket  for  the  oratorio,  which  would  carry  two  per- 
sons into  the  gallery ;  and  therefore  begged  the  favour 
of  her  company  thither. 

Amelia,  with  many  thanks,  acknowledged  the  civility 
of  Mrs.  Ellison,  but  declined  accepting  her  offer ;  upon 
which  Booth  very  strenuously  insisted  on  her  going,  and 
said  to  her,  "  My  dear,  if  you  knew  the  satisfaction  I 
have  in  any  of  your  pleasures,  I  am  convinced  you  would 
not  refuse  the  favour  Mrs.  EUison  is  so  kind  to  offer 
you;  for  as  you  are  a  lover  of  music,  you,  who  have 
never  been  at  an  oratorio,  cannot  conceive  how  you  will 
be  delighted."  "  I  well  know  your  goodness,  my  dear," 
answered  Amelia ;  "  but  I  cannot  think  of  leaving  my 
children  without  some  person  more  proper  to  take  care 
of  them  than  this  poor  girl."  Mrs.  Ellison  removed  ihis 
objection,  by  offering  her  own  servant,  a  very  discreet 
matron,  to  attend  them  ;  but  notwithstanding  this,  and  all 
she  could  say,  with  the  assistance  of  Booth,  and  of  the 
children  themselves,  Amelia  still  persisted  in  her  refu- 
sal ;  and  the  mistress  of  the  house,  who  knew  how  far 
good  breeding  allows  persons  to  be  pressing  on  these 
occasions,  took  her  leave. 

She  was  no  sooner  departed,  than  Amelia,  looking 
tenderly  on  her  husband,  said,  "  How  can  you,  my  dear 
creature,  think  that  music  has  any  charms  for  me  at  this 
time  1  Or,  indeed,  do  you  believe  that  I  am  capable  of 
any  sensation  worthy  the  name  of  pleasure,  when 
15  H 


170  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

neither  you  nor  my  children  are  present,  or  bear  any 
part  of  it  r' 

An  officer  of  the  regiment,  to  which  Booth  had  for- 
meily  belonged,  hearing  from  Atkinson  where  he  lodged, 
now  came  to  pay  him  a  visit.  He  told  him  that  several 
of  their  old  acquaintance  were  to  meet  the  next  Wed- 
nesday at  a  tavern,  and  very  strongly  pressed  him  to  be 
one  of  the  company.  Booth  was,  in  truth,  what  was 
called  a  hearty  fellow,  and  loved  now  and  then  to  take 
a  cheerful  glass  with  his  friends ;  but  he  excused  him- 
self at  this  time.  His  friend  declared  he  would  take  no 
denial ;  and  he  growing  very  importunate,  Amelia  at 
length  seconded  him.  Upon  this  Booth  answered,  "  Well, 
my  dear,  since  you  desire  me,  I  will  comply,  but  on  one 
condition  ;  that  you  go  at  the  same  time  to  the  oratorio." 
Amelia  thought  this  request  reasonable  enough,  and  gave 
her  consent ;  of  which  Mrs.  Ellison  presently  received 
the  news,  and  with  great  satisfaction. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  asked,  why  Booth  could  go  to  the 
tavern,  and  not  to  the  oratorio  with  his  wife  1  In  truth, 
then,  the  tavern  was  within  hallowed  ground,  that  is  to 
say,  in  the  verge  of  the  court ;  for,  of  five  officers  that 
were  to  meet  there,  three,  besides  Booth,  were  confined 
to  that  air,  which  has  been  always  found  extremely 
wholesome  to  a  broken  military  constitution.  And  here, 
if  the  good  reader  will  pardon  the  pun,  he  will  scarce 
be  off"ended  at  the  observation  ;  since,  how  is  it  possible, 
that,  without  running  in  debt,  any  person  should  main- 
tain the  dress  and  appearance  of  a  gentleman,  whose  in- 
come is  not  half  so  good  as  that  of  a  porter  1  It  is  true, 
that  this  allowance,  small  as  it  is,  is  a  great  expense  to 
the  public ;  but,  if  several  more  unnecessary  charges 
were  spared,  the  public  might,  perhaps,  bear  a  little  in- 
crease of  this,  without  much  feeling  it.  They  would 
not,  I  am  sure,  have  equal  reason  to  complain  at  con- 
tributing to  the  maintenance  of  a  set  of  brave  fellows, 
who,  at  the  hazard  of  their  health,  their  limbs,  and  their 
lives,  have  maintained  the  safety  and  honour  of  their 
country,  as  when  they  find  themselves  taxed  to  the  sup- 
port of  a  set  of  drones,  who  have  not  the  least  merit  or 
claim  to  their  favour ;  and  who,  without  contributing  in 
any  manner  to  the  good  of  the  hive,  live  luxuriously  on 
the  labours  of  the  industrious  bee. 


THE    HISTORY  OP    AMELIA.  171 


Chapter  IX. — In  which  Amelia,  with  her  friend,  goes  to  the  ora- 
torio. 

Nothing  happened  between  the  Monday  and  the 
Wednesday  worthy  a  place  in  this  history.  Upon  the 
evening  of  the  latter,  the  two  ladies  went  to  the  orato- 
rio, and  were  there  time  enough  to  get  a  first  row  in  the 
gallery.  Indeed,  there  was  only  one  person  in  the 
house  when  they  came  ;  for  Amelia's  inclinations,  when 
she  gave  a  loose  to  them,  were  pretty  eager  for  this 
diversion,  she  being  a  great  lover  of  music,  and  par- 
ticularly of  Mr.  Handel's  compositions.  Mrs.  Ellison 
was,  1  suppose,  a  great  lover  likewise  of  music,  for 
she  was  the  more  impatient  of  the  two  ;  which  was 
rather  the  more  extraordinary,  as  these  entertainments 
were  not  such  novelties  to  her  as  they  were  to  poor 
Amelia. 

Though  our  ladies  arrived  full  two  hours  before  they 
saw  the  back  of  Mr.  Handel,  yet  this  time  of  expecta- 
tion did  not  hang  extremely  heavy  on  their  hands  ;  for, 
besides  their  own  chat,  they  had  the  company  of  the 
gentleman  whom  they  found  at  their  first  arrival  in  the 
gallery,  and  who,  though  plainly,  or  rather  roughly 
dressed,  very  luckily  for  the  women,  happened  to  be 
not  only  well  bred,  but  a  person  of  very  lively  conver- 
sation. The  gentleman,  on  his  part,  seemed  highly 
charmed  with  Amelia,  and  in  fact  was  so ;  for,  though 
he  restrained  himself  entirely  within  the  rules  of  good 
breeding,  yet  he  was  in  the  highest  degree  officious  to 
catch  at  every  opportunity  of  showing  his  respect,  and 
doing  her  little  services.  He  procured  her  a  book  and 
wax  candle,  and  held  the  candle  for  her  himself  during 
the  whole  entertainment. 

At  the  end  of  the  oratorio,  he  declared  he  would  not 
leave  the  ladies  till  he  had  seen  them  safe  into  their 
chairs  or  coach ;  and  at  the  same  time  very  earnestly 
entreated  that  he  might  have  the  honour  of  waiting  on 
them.  Upon  which,  Mrs.  Ellison,  who  was  a  very 
good-humoured  woman,  answered,  "  Ay,  sure,  sir,  if 
you  please  :  you  have  been  very  obliging  to  us  ;  and  a 
dish  of  tea  shall  be  at  your  service  at  any  time  ;"  and 
then  told  him  where  she  lived. 

The  ladies  were  no  sooner  seated  in  their  haokney- 
H3 


172  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

coach,  than  Mrs.  Ellison  burst  into  a  loud  laughter,  and 
cried,  *'  PIl  be  hanged,  madam,  if  you  have  not  made 
a  conquest  to-night ;  and  what  is  very  pleasant,  I  be- 
lieve the  poor  gentleman  takes  you  for  a  single  lady." 
"  Nay,"  answered  Amelia,  very  gravely,  "  I  protest  I 
began  to  think  at  last  he  was  rather  too  particular, 
though  he  did  not  venture  at  a  word  that  I  could  be  of- 
fended at :  but  if  you  fancied  any  such  thing,  I  am  sorry 
you  invited  him  to  drink  tea."     "  Why  so  V  replied  Mrs, 
Ellison ;  "  are  you  angry  with  a  man  for  liking  you  ?  if 
you  are,  you  will  be  angry  with  almost  every  man  that 
sees  you.     If  I  was  a  man  myself,  I  declare  1  should  be 
in  the  number  of  your  admirers.     Poor  gentleman,  I 
pity  him  heartily ;  he  little  knows  that  you  have  not  a 
heart  to  dispose  of:  for  my  own  part,  1  should  not  be 
surprised  at  seeing  a  serious  proposal  of  marriage  ;  for 
I  am  convinced  he  is  a  man  of  fortune,  not  only  by  the 
politeness  of  his  address,  but  by  the  fineness  of  his  linen, 
and  that  valuable  diamond  ring  on  his  finger:  but  you 
will  see  more  of  him  when  he  comes  to  tea."    "  Indeed  I 
shall  not,"  answered  Amelia ;  "  though  I  beheve  you  only 
rally  me  :  I  hope  you  have  a  better  opinion  of  me,  than 
to  think  I  would  go  willingly  into  the  company  of  a  man 
who  had  an  improper  liking  for  me."    Mrs.  EUison,  who 
was  one  of  the  gayest  women  in  the  world,  repeated  the 
words,  "  improper  liking,"  with  a  laugh  ;  and  cried,  "  My 
dear  Mrs.  Booth,  believe  me,  you  are  too  handsome  and 
too  good-humoured  for  a  prude.     How  can  you  affect 
being  offended  at  what  I  am  convinced  is  the  greatest 
pleasure  of  womankind,  and  chiefly,  1  believe,  of  us 
virtuous  women  ?   for,  I  assure  you,  notwithstanding 
my  gayety,  I  am  as  virtuous  as  any  prude  in  Europe." 
"  Far  be  it  from  me,  madam,"  said  Amelia,  "  to  suspect 
the  contrary  of  abundance  of  women,  who  indulge  them- 
selves in  much  greater  freedoms  than  I  should  take,  or 
have  any  pleasure  in  taking ;  for  I  solemnly  protest,  if 
1  know  my  own  heart,  the  liking  of  all  men,  but  of  one, 
is  a  matter  quite  indifferent  to  me,  or  rather  would  be 
highly  disagreeable." 

This  discourse  brought  them  home,  where  Amelia, 
finding  her  children  asleep,  and  her  husband  not  re- 
turned, invited  her  companion  to  partake  of  her  homely 
fare,  and  down  they  sat  to  supper  together.  The  clock 
struck  twelve  ;  and  no  news  being  arrived  of  Booth, 
Mrs.  Ellison  began  to  express  some  astonishment  at  his 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  173 

stay,  whence  she  launched  into  a  general  reflection  on 
husbands,  and  soon  passed  to  some  particular  invectives 
on  her  own.  "  Ah,  my  dear  madam,*'  says  she,  "  1  know 
the  present  state  of  your  mind,  by  what  I  have  myself 
often  felt  formerly.  I  am  no  stranger  to  the  melancholy 
tone  of  a  midnight  clock.  It  was  my  misfortune  to 
drag  on  a  heavy  chain  above  fifteen  years  with  a  sottish 
yokefellow.  But  how  can  I  wonder  at  my  fate  1  since 
I  see  even  your  superior  charms  cannot  confine  a  hus- 
band from  the  bewitching  pleasures  of  a  bottle."  "  In- 
deed, madam,"  says  Amelia,  "  I  have  no  reason  to  com- 
plain :  Mr.  Booth  is  one  of  the  soberest  of  men  ;  but 
now  and  then  to  spend  a  late  hour  with  his  friend,  is,  I 
think,  highly  excusable."  "  Oh,  no  doubt,"  cries  Mrs. 
Ellison,  "  if  he  can  excuse  himself;  but  if  I  was  a 
man — "  Here  Mr,  Booth  came  in  and  interrupted  the 
discourse.  Amelia's  eyes  flashed  with  joy  the  moment 
he  appeared  ;  and  he  discovered  no  less  pleasure  in  see- 
ing her.  His  spirits  were  indeed  a  little  elevated  with 
wine,  so  as  to  heighten  his  good-humour,  without  in 
the  least  disordering  his  understanding  ;  and  made  him 
such  delightful  company,  that  though  it  was  past  one  in 
the  morning,  neither  his  wife  nor  Mrs.  EUison  thought 
of  their  beds  during  a  whole  hour. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  sergeant  came  to  Mr. 
Booth's  lodging,  and,  with  a  melancholy  countenance, 
acquainted  him,  that  he  had  been  the  night  before  at 
an  alehouse,  where  he  heard  one  Mr.  Murphy,  an  at- 
torney, declare,  that  he  would  get  a  warrant  backed 
against  one  Captain  Booth  at  the  next  board  of  green- 
cloth.  "  I  hope,  sir,"  said  he,  "  your  honour  will  pardon 
me  ;  but  by  what  he  said,  I  was  afraid  he  meant  your 
honour  ;  and  therefore  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  tell  you  ; 
for  I  knew  the  same  thing  happen  to  a  gentleman  here 
the  other  day." 

Booth  gave  Mr.  Atkinson  many  thanks  for  his  in- 
formation. "  I  doubt  not,"  said  he,  "  but  I  am  the  per- 
son meant ;  for  it  would  be  foolish  in  me  to  deny  that 
I  am  liable  to  apprehensions  of  that  sort."  "  I  hope, 
sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  your  honour  will  soon  have 
reason  to  fear  no  man  living :  but  in  the  mean  time,  if 
any  accident  should  happen,  my  bail  is  at  your  ser- 
vice as  far  as  it  will  go ;  and  I  am  a  housekeeper,  and 
can  swear  myself  worth  one  hundred  pounds."  Which 
15* 


174  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

hearty  and  friendly  declaration  received  all  those  ac- 
knowledgments from  Booth  which  it  really  deserved. 

The  poor  gentleman  was  greatly  alarmed  at  this  news ; 
but  he  was  altogether  as  much  surprised  at  Murphy's 
being  the  attorney  employed  against  him,  as  all  his  debts, 
except  only  to  Colonel  James,  arose  in  the  country, 
where  he  did  not  know  that  Mr.  Murphy  had  any  ac- 
quaintance. However,  he  made  no  doubt  that  he  was 
the  person  intended,  and  resolved  to  remain  a  close 
prisoner  in  his  own  lodgings,  till  he  saw  the  event  of  a 
proposal  which  had  been  made  him  the  evening  before 
at  the  tavern,  where  an  honest  gentleman,  who  had  a 
post  under  the  government,  and  who  was  one  of  the 
company,  had  promised  to  serve  him  with  the  secretary 
at  war,  telling  him,  that  he  made  no  doubt  of  procuring 
him  whole  pay  in  a  regiment  abroad,  which,  in  his  pres- 
ent circumstances,  was  very  highly  worth  his  accept- 
ance; when,  indeed,  that  and  a  jail  seemed  to  be  the 
only  alternatives  that  offered  themselves  to  his  choice. 

Mr.  Booth  and  his  lady  spent  that  afternoon  with  Mrs. 
Ellison  ; — an  incident  which  we  should  scarce  have  men- 
tioned, had  it  not  been  that  Amelia  gave,  on  this  oc- 
casion, an  instance  of  that  prudence  which  should  never 
be  off  its  guard  in  married  women  of  delicacy  ;  for,  be- 
fore she  would  consent  to  drink  tea  with  Mrs.  Ellison, 
she  made  conditions,  that  the  gentleman  who  had  met 
them  at  the  oratorio  should  not  be  let  in.  Indeed,  this 
circumspection  proved  unnecessary  in  the  present  in- 
stance, for  no  such  visiter  ever  came  ;  a  circumstance 
which  gave  great  content  to  Amelia :  for  that  lady  had 
been  a  little  uneasy  at  the  raillery  of  Mrs.  Ellison,  and 
had,  upon  reflection,  magnified  every  little  compliment 
made  her,  and  every  little  civility  shown  her  by  the 
unknown  gentleman,  far  beyond  the  truth.  These 
imaginations  now  all  subsided  again ;  and  she  imputed 
all  that  Mrs.  Ellison  had  said  either  to  raillery  or  mistake. 

A  young  lady  made  a  fourth  with  them  at  whist,  and 
likewise  stayed  the  whole  evening.  Her  name  was 
Bennet.  She  was  about  the  age  of  five-and-twenty ;  but 
sickness  had  given  her  an  older  look,  and  had  a  good 
deal  diminished  her  beauty;  of  which,  young  as  she 
was,  she  plainly  appeared  to  have  only  the  remains  in 
her  present  possession.  She  was  in  one  particular  the 
very  reverse  of  Mrs.  Ellison,  being  altogether  as  remark- 
ably grave  as  the  other  was  gay.     This  gravity  was  not, 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  175 

however,  attended  with  any  sourness  of  temper :  on  the 
contrary,  she  had  much  sweetness  in  her  countenance, 
and  was  perfectly  well  bred.  In  short,  Amelia  imputed 
her  grave  deportment  to  her  ill  health,  and  began  to  en- 
tertain a  compassion  for  her,  which,  in  good  minds,  that 
is  to  say,  in  minds  capable  of  compassion,  is  certain  to 
introduce  some  httle  degree  of  love  or  friendship. 

Amelia  was,  in  short,  so  pleased  with  the  conversation 
of  this  lady,  that,  though  a  woman  of  no  impertinent 
curiosity,  she  could  not  help  taking  the  first  opportunity 
of  mquiring  who  she  was.  Mrs.  Ellison  said  that  she 
was  an  unhappy  lady,  who  had  married  a  young  clergy- 
man for  love,  who,  dying  of  a  consumption,  had  left  her 
a  widow  in  very  indifferent  circumstances.  This  ac- 
count made  Amelia  still  pity  her  more,  and  consequently 
added  to  the  liking  which  she  had  already  conceived  for 
her.  Amelia,  therefore,  desired  Mrs.  Ellison  to  bring 
her  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Bennet,  and  said  she  would 
go  any  day  with  her  to  make  that  lady  a  visit.  "  There 
need  be  no  ceremony,"  cried  Mrs.  Ellison :  "  she  is  a 
woman  of  no  form ;  and  as  I  saw  plainly  she  was  ex- 
tremely pleased  with  Mrs.  Booth,  I  am  convinced  I  can 
bring  her  to  drink  tea  with  you  any  afternoon  you 
please." 

The  next  two  days  Booth  continued  at  home,  highly 
to  the  satisfaction  of  his  Amelia,  who  really  knew  no  hap- 
piness out  of  his  company,  nor  scarce  any  misery  in  it. 
She  had,  indeed,  at  all  times  so  much  of  his  company 
when  in  his  power,  that  she  had  no  occasion  to  assign 
any  particular  reason  for  his  staying  with  her,  and  con- 
sequently it  could  give  her  no  cause  of  suspicion.  The 
Saturday,  one  of  her  children  was  a  little  disordered 
with  a  feverish  complaint,  which  confined  her  to  her 
room,  and  prevented  her  drinking  tea  in  the  afternoon 
with  her  husband  in  Mrs.  Ellison's  apartment,  where  a 
noble  lord,  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Ellison,  happened  to  be  pres- 
ent ;  for  though  that  lady  was  reduced  in  her  circum- 
stances, and  obliged  to  let  out  part  of  her  house  in  lodg- 
ings, she  was  born  of  a  good  family,  and  had  some  con- 
siderable relations. 

His  lordship  was  not  himself  in  any  office  of  state; 
but  his  fortune  gave  him  great  authority  with  those  who 
were  :  Mrs.  Ellison,  therefore,  very  bluntly  took  an  op- 
portunity of  recommending  Booth  to  his  consideration. 
She  took  the  first  hint  from  my  lord's  calling  the  gen- 


176  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

tleman  captain ;  to  which  she  answered,  "  Aj',  I  wish 
your  lordship  would  make  him  so.  It  would  be  but  an 
act  of  justice,  and  I  know  it  is  in  your  power  to  do  much 
greater  things."  She  then  mentioned  Booth's  services, 
and  the  wounds  he  had  received  at  the  siege,  of  which 
she  had  heard  a  faithful  account  from  Amelia.  Booth 
blushed,  and  was  as  silent  as  a  young  virgin  at  the  hear- 
ing her  own  praises.  His  lordship  answered,  "  Cousin 
Ellison,  you  know  you  may  command  my  interest ;  nay, 
I  shall  have  a  pleasure  in  serving  one  of  Mr.  Booth's 
character :  for  my  part,  1  think  merit  in  all  capacities 
ought  to  be  encouraged ;  but  I  know  the  ministry  are 
greatly  pestered  with  solicitations  at  this  time.  How- 
ever, Mr.  Booth  may  be  assured  I  will  take  the  first  op- 
portunity ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  1  shall  be  glad  of  see- 
ing him  any  morning  he  pleases."  For  all  these  decla- 
rations Booth  was  not  wanting  in  acknowledgments  to 
the  generous  peer,  any  more  than  he  was  in  secret  grat- 
itude to  the  lady,  who  had  shown  so  friendly  and  un- 
common a  zeal  in  his  favour. 

The  reader,  when  he  knows  the  character  of  this  no- 
hleman,  may,  perhaps,  conclude  that  his  seeing  Booth 
alone  was  a  lucky  circumstance ;  for  he  was  so  pas- 
sionate an  admirer  of  women,  that  he  could  scarce  have 
escaped  the  attraction  of  Amelia's  beauty :  and  few  men, 
as  I  have  observed,  have  such  disinterested  generosity, 
as  to  serve  a  husband  the  better,  because  they  are  in 
love  with  the  wife,  unless  she  will  condescend  to  pay  a 
price  beyond  the  reach  of  a  virtuous  woman. 


BOOK    V. 

Chapter  I. — In  which  the  reader  will  meet  with  an  old  acquaint- 


ance. 


Booth's  affairs  put  on  a  better  aspect  than  they  had 
ever  worn  before,  and  he  was  willing  to  make  use  of  the 
opportunity  of  one  day  in  seven  to  taste  the  fresh  air. 

At  nine  in  the  morning  he  went  to  pay  a  visit  to  his 
old  friend  Colonel  James,  resolving,  if  possible,  to  have  a 
full  explanation  of  that  behaviour  which  appeared  to 


THE    HISTORY  OF   AMELIA.  177 

Jiim  so  mysterious ;  but  the  colonel  was  as  inaccessible 
as  the  best-defended  fortress;  and  it  was  as  impossible 
for  Booth  to  pass  beyond  his  entry,  as  the  Spaniards 
found  it  to  take  Gibraltar.  He  received  the  usual  an- 
swers; first,  that  the  colonel  was  not  stirring,  and  an 
hour  after  that  he  was  gone  out.  All  that  he  got  by 
asking  farther  questions  was  only  to  receive  still  ruder 
and  ruder  answers ;  by  which,  if  he  had  been  very  sa- 
gacious, he  might  have  been  satisfied  how  little  worth 
his  while  it  was  to  desire  to  go  in:  for  the  porter  at  a 
great  man's  door  is  a  kind  of  thermometer,  by  which 
you  may  discover  the  warmth  or  coldness  of  his  mas- 
ter's friendship.  Nay,  in  the  highest  stations  of  all,  as 
the  great  man  himself  has  his  different  kinds  of  saluta- 
tion, from  a  hearty  embrace  with  a  kiss,  and  "  My  dear 

lord,"  or  "  Dear  Sir  Charles,"  down  to,  "Well,  Mr. , 

what  would  you  have  me  do  ?"  so  the  porter,  to  some 
bows  with  respect,  to  others  with  a  smile,  to  some  he 
bows  more,  to  others  less  low,  to  others  not  at  all ;  some 
he  just  lets  in,  and  others  he  just  shuts  out;  and  in  all 
this  they  so  well  correspond,  that  one  would  be  inclined 
to  think  that  the  great  man  and  his  porter  had  compared 
their  lists  together,  and,  like  two  actors  concerned  to  act 
different  parts  in  the  same  scene,  had  rehearsed  their 
parts  privately  together  before  they  ventured  to  perform 
in  public. 

Though  Booth  did  not,  perhaps,  see  the  whole  matter 
in  this  just  light,  for  that  in  reality  it  is,  yet,  he  was 
discerning  enough  to  conclude,  from  the  behaviour  of 
the  servant,  especially  when  he  considered  that  of  the 
master  likewise,  that  he  had  entirely  lost  the  friendship 
of  James;  and  this  conviction  gave  him  a  concern,  that 
not  only  the  flattering  prospect  of  his  lordship's  favour 
was  not  able  to  compensate,  but  which  even  obliterated, 
and  made  him  for  a  while  forget,  the  situation  in  which 
he  had  left  his  Amelia ;  and  he  wandered  about  almost 
two  hours,  scarce  knowing  where  he  went,  till  at  last 
he  dropped  into  a  coffee-house  near  St.  James's,  where 
he  sat  himself  down. 

He  had  scarce  drunk  his  dish  of  coffee,  before  he 
heard  a  young  officer  of  the  guards  cry  to  another,  "  Oh, 
d — n  me.  Jack,  here  he  comes :  here's  old  honour  and 
dignity,  faith."  Upon  which  he  saw  a  chair  open,  and 
out  issued  a  most  erect  and  stately  figure  indeed,  with 
avast  periwig  on  his  head,  and  avast  hat  under  his  arm. 
H3 


178  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

This  august  personage,  having  entered  the  room,  walked 
directly  up  to  the  upper  end,  where,  having  paid  his 
respects  to  all  present  of  any  note,  to  each  according  to 
seniorit)^  he  at  last  cast  his  eyes  on  Booth,  and  very 
civilly,  though  somewhat  coldly,  asked  him  how  he  did. 

Booth,  who  had  long  recognised  the  features  of  his 
old  acquaintance  Major  Bath,  returned  the  compliment 
with  a  very  low  boW;  hut  did  not  venture  to  make  the 
first  advance  to  famiharity,  as  he  was  truly  possessed 
of  that  quahty  which  the  Greeks  considered  in  the  high- 
est light  of  honour,  and  which  we  term  modesty  ;  though, 
indeed,  neither  ours  nor  the  Latin  language  has  any 
word  adequate  to  the  idea  of  the  original. 

The  colonel,  after  having  discharged  himself  of  two 
or  three  articles  of  news,  and  made  his  comments  upon 
them,  when  the  next  chair  to  him  became  vacant,  called 
upon  Booth  to  fill  it.  He  then  asked  him  several  ques- 
tions relating  to  his  afi'airs;  and,  when  he  heard  he  was 
out  of  the  army,  advised  him  earnestly  to  use  all  means 
to  get  in  again,  saying,  that  he  was  a  pretty  lad,  and 
they  must  not  lose  him. 

Booth  told  him,  in  a  whisper,  that  he  had  a  great  deal 
to  say  to  him  on  that  subject,  if  they  were  in  a  more 
private  place :  upon  this,  the  colonel  proposed  a  walk 
in  the  Park,  which  the  other  readily  accepted. 

During  their  walk.  Booth  opened  his  heart,  and, 
among  other  matters,  acquainted  Colonel  Bath,  that  he 
feared  he  had  lost  the  friendship  of  Colonel  James  ; 
*'  though  I  am  not,"  said  he,  "  conscious  of  having  done 
the  least  thing  to  deserve  it." 

Bath  answered,  "  You  are  certainly  mistaken,  Mr. 
Booth.  I  have,  indeed,  scarce  seen  my  brother  since 
my  coming  to  town,  for  1  have  been  here  but  two  days  ; 
however,  I  am  convinced  he  is  a  man  of  too  nice  honour 
to  do  anything  inconsistent  with  the  true  dignity  of  a 
gentleman."  Booth  answered,  he  was  far  from  accusing 
him  of  anything  dishonourable.  "  D — n  me,"  said  Bath, 
*'  if  there  is  a  man  alive  can  or  dare  accuse  him  :  if  you 
have  the  least  reason  to  take  anything  ill,  why  don't 
you  go  to  him  ?  you  are  a  gentleman,  and  his  rank  does 
not  protect  him  from  giving  you  satisfaction."  "  The 
affair  is  not  of  any  such  kind,"  says  Booth :  "  I  have 
great  obligations  to  the  colonel,  and  have  more  reason 
to  lament  than  complain ;  and,  if  I  could  but  see  him, 
I  am  convinced  I  should  have  no  cause  for  either ;  but 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  179 

I  cannot  get  within  his  house  :  it  was  but  an  hour  ago, 
a  servant  of  his  turned  me  rudely  from  the  door." 
"  Did  a  servant  of  my  brother  use  you  rudely  V  said  the 
colonel,  with  the  utmost  gravity  :  "  I  do  not  know,  sir, 
in  what  light  you  see  such  things  ;  but  to  me,  the  affront 
of  a  servant  is  the  affront  of  the  master;  and  if  he  does 
not  immediately  punish  it,  by  all  the  dignity  of  a  man, 
I  would  see  the  master's  nose  between  my  fingers," 
Booth  offered  to  explain,  but  to  no  purpose  ;  the  colonel 
was  got  into  his  stilts,  and  it  was  impossible  to  take 
him  down :  nay,  it  was  as  much  as  Booth  could  possibly 
do  to  part  with  him  without  an  actual  quarrel ;  nor 
would  he,  perhaps,  have  been  able  to  have  accomplished 
it,  had  not  the  colonel  by  accident  turned  at  last  to  take 
Booth's  side  of  the  question  ;  and  before  they  separated, 
he  swore  many  oaths  that  James  should  give  him  prop- 
er satisfaction. 

Such  was  the  end  of  this  present  interview,  so  little 
to  the  content  of  Booth,  that  he  was  heartily  concerned 
he  had  ever  mentioned  a  syllable  of  the  matter  to  his 
honourable  friend. 


Chapter.  II. — In  which  Booth  pays  a  visit  to  the  noble  lord. 

When  that  day  of  the  week  returned  in  which  Mr. 
Booth  chose  to  walk  abroad,  he  went  to  wait  on  the 
noble  peer,  according  to  his  kind  invitation. 

Booth  now  found  a  very  different  reception  with  this 
great  man's  porter,  from  what  he  had  met  with  at  his 
friend  the  colonel's.  He  no  sooner  told  his  name,  than 
the  porter  with  a  bow  told  him  his  lordship  was  at  home  ; 
the  door  immediately  flew  wide  open ;  and  he  was  con- 
ducted to  an  antechamber,  where  a  servant  told  him  he 
would  acquaint  his  lordship  with  his  arrival :  nor  did  he 
wait  many  minutes,  before  the  same  servant  returned, 
and  ushered  him  to  his  lordship's  apartment. 

He  found  my  lord  alone,  and  was  received  by  him  in 
the  most  courteous  manner  imaginable.  After  the  first 
ceremonials  were  over,  his  lordship  began  in  the  follow- 
ing words  :  "  Mr.  Booth,  I  do  assure  you,  you  are  very 
much  obliged  to  my  cousin  Ellison.  She  has  given  you 
such  a  character,  that  I  shall  have  a  pleasure  in  doing 
anything  in  my  power  to  serve  you.    But  it  will  be 


ISO  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

very  difficult,  I  am  afraid,  to  get  you  a  rank  at  home. 
In  the  West  Indies,  perhaps,  or  in  some  regiment 
abroad,  it  may  be  more  easy  ;  and  when  I  consider  your 
reputation  as  a  soldier,  I  make  no  doubt  of  your  readi- 
ness to  go  to  any  place  where  the  service  of  your  coun- 
try shall  call  you."  Booth  answered,  that  he  was  high- 
ly obliged  to  his  lordship ;  and  assured  him  he  would, 
with  great  cheerfulness,  attend  his  duty  in  any  part  of 
the  world.  ''  The  only  thing  grievous  in  the  exchange 
of  countries,"  said  he,"  in  my  opinion,  is  to  leave  those 
I  love  behind  me ;  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  never  have  a 
second  trial  equal  to  my  first.  It  was  very  hard,  my 
lord,  to  leave  a  young  wife  big  with  her  first  child,  and 
so  affected  with  my  absence,  that  I  had  the  utmost 
reason  to  despair  of  ever  seeing  her  more.  After  such 
a  demonstration  of  my  resolution  to  sacrifice  every  other 
consideration  to  my  duty,  I  hope  your  lordship  will 
honour  me  with  some  confidence,  that  I  shall  make  no 
objection  to  serve  in  any  country."  "  My  dear  Mr. 
Booth,"  answered  the  lord,  "  you  speak  like  a  soldier, 
and  I  greatly  honour  your  sentiments.  Indeed,  I  own 
the  justice  of  your  inference  from  the  example  you  have 
given  ;  for  to  quit  a  wife,  as  you  say,  in  the  very  infancy 
of  marriage,  is,  I  acknowledge,  some  trial  of  resolution." 
Booth  answered  with  a  low  bow ;  and  then,  after  some 
immaterial  conversation,  his  lordship  promised  to  speak 
immediately  to  the  minister,  and  appointed  Mr.  Booth 
to  come  to'  him  again  on  the  Wednesday  morning,  that 
he  might  be  acquainted  with  his  patron's  success.  The 
poor  man  now  blushed  and  looked  silly ;  till,  after  some 
time,  he  summoned  up  all  his  courage  to  his  assistance, 
and,  relying  on  the  other's  friendship,  he  opened  the 
whole  aff'air  of  his  circumstances,  and  confessed  that  he 
did  not  dare  stir  from  his  lodgings  above  one  day  in 
seven.  His  lordship  expressed  great  concern  at  this  ac- 
count, and  very  kindly  promised  to  take  some  opportu- 
nity of  calling  on  him  at  his  cousin  Ellison's,  when  he 
hoped,  he  said,  to  bring  him  comfortable  tidings. 

Booth  soon  afterw^ard  took  his  leave  with  the  most 
profuse  acknowledgments  for  so  much  goodness,  and 
hastened  home  to  acquaint  his  Amelia  with  what  had  so 
greatly  overjoyed  him.  She  highly  congratulated  him 
on  his  having  found  so  generous  and  powerful  a  friend, 
towards  whom  both  their  bosoms  burned  with  the  warm- 
est sentiments  of  gratitude.     She  was  not,  however, 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  181 

contented,  till  she  had  made  Booth  renew  his  promise, 
in  the  most  solemn  manner,  of  taking-  her  with  him ; 
after  which,  they  sat  down  with  their  little  children  to 
a  scrag  of  mutton  and  broth  with  the  highest  satisfac- 
tion, and  very  heartily  drank  his  lordship's  health  in  a 
pot  of  porter. 

In  the  afternoon,  this  happy  couple,  if  the  reader  will 
allow  me  to  call  poor  people  happy,  drank  tea  with  Mrs. 
Ellison,  where  his  lordship's  praises  being  again  repeated 
by  both  husband  and  wife,  were  very  loudly  echoed  by 
Mrs.  Ellison.  While  they  were  here,  the  young  lady 
whom  we  have  mentioned  at  the  end  of  the  last  book  to 
have  made  a  fourth  at  whist,  and  with  whom  Amelia 
seemed  so  much  pleased,  came  in  :  she  was  just  returned 
to  town  from  a  short  visit  in  the  country,  and  her  pres- 
ent visit  was  unexpected.  It  was,  however,  very  agree- 
able to  Amelia,  who  liked  her  still  better  upon  a  second 
interview,  and  was  resolved  to  solicit  her  farther  ac- 
quaintance. 

Mrs.  Bennet  still  maintained  some  little  reserve,  but 
was  much  more  familiar  and  communicative  than  before : 
she  appeared,  moreover,  to  be  as  little  ceremonious  as 
Mrs.  Ellison  had  reported  her,  and  very  readily  accepted 
Amelia's  apology  for  not  paying  her  the  first  visit,  and 
agreed  to  drink  tea  with  her  the  very  next  afternoon. 

While  the  above-mentioned  company  were  sitting  in 
Mrs.  Ellison's  parlour,  Sergeant  Atkinson  passed  by  the 
window  and  knocked  at  the  door.  Mrs.  Ellison  no 
sooner  saw  him  than  she  said,  "  Pray,  Mr.  Booth,  who 
is  that  genteel  young  sergeant  ?  he  was  here  every  day 
last  week  to  inquire  after  you."  This  was  indeed  a  fact : 
the  sergeant  was  apprehensive  of  the  design  of  Murphy  ; 
but  as  the  poor  fellow  had  received  all  his  answers  from 
the  maid  or  Mrs.  Ellison,  Booth  had  never  heard  a  word 
of  the  matter.  He  was,  however,  greatly  pleased  with 
what  he  was  now  told,  and  burst  forth  into  great  praises 
of  the  sergeant,  which  were  seconded  by  Amelia,  who 
added  that  he  was  her  foster-brother,  and  she  believed 
one  of  the  honestest  fellows  in  the  world. 

*'  And  I'll  swear,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  he  is  one  of 
the  prettiest :  do,  Mr.  Booth,  desire  him  to  walk  in.  A 
sergeant  of  the  guards  is  a  gentleman ;  and  I  had  rather 
give  such  a  man  as  you  describe  a  dish  of  tea,  than  any 
Beau  Fribble  of  them  all." 

Booth  wanted  no  great  solicitation  to  show  any  kind 
16 


182  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

of  regard  to  Atkinson;  and  accordingly  the  sergeant 
was  ushered  in,  though  not  without  some  reluctance  on 
his  side.  There  is,  perhaps,  nothing  more  uneasy  than 
those  sensations  which  the  French  call  the  mauvaise 
honte,  nor  any  more  difficult  to  conquer ;  and  poor  At- 
kinson would,  I  am  persuaded,  have  mounted  a  breach 
with  less  concern  than  he  showed  in  walking  across  a 
room  before  three  ladies,  two  of  whom  were  his  avowed 
well-wishers. 

Though  I  do  not  entirely  agree  with  the  late  learned 
Mr.  Essex,  the  celebrated  dancing-master's  opinion,  that 
dancing  is  the  rudiment  of  polite  education,  as  he  would, 
I  apprehend,  exclude  every  other  art  and  science ;  yet 
it  is  certain  that  persons  whose  feet  have  never  been 
under  the  hands  of  the  professors  of  that  art,  are  apt  to 
discover  this  want  in  their  education  in  every  motion, 
nay,  even  when  they  stand  or  sit  still.  They  seem,  in- 
deed, to  be  overburdened  with  limbs  which  they  know 
not  how  to  use  ;  as  if,  when  Nature  has  finished  her 
work,  the  dancing-master  still  is  necessary  to  put  it  in 
motion. 

Atkinson  was  at  present  an  example  of  this  observa- 
tion, which  does  so  much  honour  to  a  profession  for 
which  I  have  a  very  high  regard.  He  was  handsome, 
and  exquisitely  well  made ;  and  yet,  as  he  had  never 
learned  to  dance,  he  made  so  awkward  an  appearance  in 
Mrs.  Ellison's  parlour,  that  the  good  lady  herself,  who 
had  invited  him  in,  could  at  first  scarce  refrain  from 
laughter  at  his  behaviour.  He  had  not,  however,  been 
long  in  the  room  before  admiration  of  his  person  got 
the  better  of  such  risible  ideas :  so  great  is  the  advan- 
tage of  beauty  in  men  as  well  as  women ;  and  so  sure 
is  this  quality  in  either  sex  of  procuring  some  regard 
from  the  beholder. 

The  exceeding  courteous  behaviour  of  Mrs.  Ellison, 
joined  to  that  of  Amelia  and  Booth,  at  length  dissipated 
the  uneasiness  of  Atkinson ;  and  he  gained  sufficient 
confidence  to  tell  the  company  some  entertaining  stories 
of  accidents  that  had  happened  in  the  army  within  his 
knowledge,  which,  though  they  greatly  pleased  all  pres- 
ent, are  not  however  of  consequence  enough  to  have  a 
place  in  this  history. 

Mrs.  Ellison  was  so  very  importunate  with  her  com- 
pany to  stay  supper,  that  they  all  consented.  As  for  the 
sergeant,  he  seemed  to  be  none  of  the  least  welcome 


THE   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  183 

guests*  She  was,  indeed,  so  pleased  with  what  she  had 
heard  of  him,  and  what  she  saw  of  him,  that  when  a  little 
warmed  with  wine,  (for  she  was  no  flincher  at  the  bottle,) 
she  began  to  indulge  some  freedoms  in  her  discourse  to- 
wards him  that  a  little  oflfended  Amelia's  delicacy  ;  nay, 
they  did  not  seem  to  be  highly  relished  by  the  other 
lady  ;  though  I  am  far  from  insinuating  that  these  ex- 
ceeded the  bounds  of  decorum,  or  were,  indeed,  greater 
liberties  than  ladies  of  the  middle  age,  and  especially 
widows,  do  frequently  allow  to  them&elves. 


Chapter  III. — Relating  principally  to  the  affairs  of  Sergeant  At- 
kinson. 

The  next  day,  when  all  the  same  company,  Atkinson 
only  excepted,  assembled  in  Amelia's  apartment,  Mrs. 
Ellison  presently  began  to  discourse  of  him  ;  and  that  in 
terms  not  only  of  approbation,  but  even  of  affection. 
She  called  him  her  clever  sergeant,  and  her  dear  ser- 
geant ;  repeated  often  that  he  was  the  prettiest  fellow 
in  the  army,  and  said  it  was  a  thousand  pities  he  had 
not  a  commission ;  for  that,  if  he  had,  she  was  sure  he 
would  become  a  general. 

I  "  I  am  of  your  opinion,  madam,"  answered  Booth ; 
*'  and  as  he  has  got  one  hundred  pounds  of  his  own  al- 
ready, if  he  could  fii^  a  wife  now  to  help  him  to  two  or 
three  hundred  more,  I  think  he  might  easily  get  a  com- 
mission in  a  marching  regiment ;  for  I  am  convinced 
there  is  no  colonel  in  the  army  would  refuse  him." 

"  Refuse  him,  indeed  !"  said  Mrs.  Ellison;  "  no  ;  he 
would  be  a  very  pretty  colonel  that  did.  And  upon  my 
honour,  I  believe  there  are  very  few  ladies  who  would 
refuse  him,  if  he  had  but  a  proper  opportunity  of  solicit- 
ing them.  The  colonel  and  the  lady  both  would  be  bet- 
ter off  than  with  one  of  those  pretty  masters  that  I  see 
walking  about,  and  dragging  their  long  swords  after 
them,  when  they  should  rather  drag  their  leading- 
strings." 

*'  Well  said,"  cries  Booth,  "and  spoken  like  a  woman 
of  spirit.  Indeed,  I  believe  they  would  be  both  better 
served." 

*'  True,  captain,"  answered  Mrs.  Ellison :  *'  I  would 


184  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

rather  leave  the  first  two  syllables  out  of  the  word  gen- 
tleman, than  the  last." 

"  Nay,  I  assure  you,"  replied  Booth,  *'  there  is  not  a 
quieter  creature  in  the  world.  Though  the  fellow  has 
the  bravery  of  a  lion,  he  has  the  meekness  of  a  lamb. 
I  can  tell  you  stories  enough  of  that  kind,  and  so  can 
my  dear  Amelia,  when  he  was  a  boy." 

*'  Oh,  if  the  match  sticks  therei^"  cries  Amelia,  "  I 
positively  will  not  spoil  his  fortune  by  my  silence.  I 
can  answer  for  him,  from  his  infancy,  that  he  was  one 
of  the  best-natured  lads  in  the  world.  I  will  tell  you  a 
story  or  two  of  him,  the  truth  of  which  I  can  testify 
from  my  own  knowledge.  When  he  was  but  six  years 
old,  he  was  at  play  with  me  at  my  mother's  house,  and 
a  great  pointer  dog  bit  him  through  the  leg.  The  poor 
lad,  in  the  midst  of  the  anguish  of  his  wound,  declared 
he  was  overjoyed  it  had  not  happened  to  miss ;  for  the 
same  dog  had  just  before  snapped  at  me,  and  my  petti- 
coats had  been  my  defence.  Another  instance  of  his 
goodness,  which  greatly  recommended  him  to  my  father, 
and  which  I  have  loved  him  for  ever  since,  was  this : 
My  father  was  a  great  lover  of  birds,  and  strictly  forbade 
the  spoiling  of  their  nests.  Poor  Joe  was  one  day 
caught  upon  a  tree,  and  being  concluded  guilty,  was  se- 
verely lashed  for  it;  but  it  was  afterward  discovered 
that  another  boy,  a  friend  of  Joe's,  had  robbed  the  nest 
of  its  young  ones,  and  poor  Joe  had  climbed  the  tree  in 
order  to  restore  them  ;  notwithstanding  which,  he  sub- 
mitted to  the  punishment  rather  than  he  would  impeach 
his  companion.  But  if  these  stories  appear  childish  and 
trifling,  the  duty  and  kindness  he  has  shown  to  his  mother 
must  recommend  him  to  every  one.  Ever  since  he  has 
been  fifteen  years  old,  he  has  more  than  half  supported 
her ;  and,  when  my  brother  died,  I  remember  particu- 
larly, Joe,  at  his  desire,  (for  he  was  much  his  favourite,) 
had  one  of  his  suits  given  him ;  but,  instead  of  his  be- 
coming finer  on  that  occasion,  another  young  fellow 
came  to  church  in  my  brother's  clothes,  and  my  old 
nurse  appeared  the  same  Sunday  in  a  new  gown,  which 
her  son  had  purchased  for  her  with  the  sale  of  his 
legacy." 

"  Well,  I  protest,  he  is  a  very  worthy  creature,"  said 
Mrs.  Bennet. 

"  He  is  a  charming  fellow,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison ;  "  but 


THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA.  185 

then  the  name  of  sergeant,  Captain  Booth ;  there,  as  the 
play  says,  my  pride  brings  me  off  again  : 

*  And  whatsoever  the  sages  charge  on  pride, 
The  angels  fall,  and  twenty  other  good  faults  beside  ; 
On  earth  Tm  sure — I'm  sure — something— calling, 
Pride  saves  man,  and  our  sex  too,  from  falling.'  " 

Here  a  footman's  rap  at  the  door  shook  the  room  ;  upon 
which  Mrs.  Ellison,  running  to  the  window,  cried  out, 
*'  Let  me  die  if  it  is  not  my  lord.  What  shall  I  do  ?  I 
must  be  at  home  to  hirn;  but  suppose  he  should  inquire 
for  you,  captain,  what  shall  1  say  ?  or  will  you  go  down 
with  me?" 

The  company  were  in  some  confusion  at  this  instant; 
and,  before  they  had  agreed  on  anything.  Booth's  little 
girl  came  running  into  the  room,  and  said,  there  was  a 
prodigious  great  gentleman  coming  up  stairs.  She  was 
immediately  followed  by  his  lordship,  who,  as  he  knew 
Booth  must  be  at  home,  made  very  little  or  no  inquiry 
at  the  door. 

Amelia  was  taken  somewhat  at  a  surprise,  but  she 
was  too  polite  to  show  much  confusion  ;  for  though  she 
knew  nothing  of  the  town,  she  had  had  a  genteel  educa- 
tion, and  kept  the  best  company  the  country  afforded. 
The  ceremonies  therefore  passed  as  usual,  and  they  all 
sat  down. 

His  lordship  soon  addressed  himself  to  Booth,  saying, 
*'  As  I  have  what  I  think  good  news  for  you,  sir,  I  could 
not  delay  giving  myself  the  pleasure  of  communicating  it 
to  you.  I  have  mentioned  your  affair  where  I  promised 
you,  and  I  have  no  doubt  of  my  success.  One  may 
easily  perceive,  you  know,  from  the  manner  of  people's 
behaving  upon  such  occasions  ;  and,  indeed,  when  I  re- 
lated your  case,  I  found  there  was  much  inclination  to 
serve  you.  Great  men,  Mr.  Booth,  must  do  things  in 
their  own  time  ;  but  I  think  you  may  depend  on  having 
something  done  very  soon.'' 

Booth  made  many  acknowledgments  for  his  lordship's 
goodness,  and  now  a  second  time  paid  all  the  thanks 
which  would  have  been  due,  even  had  the  favour  been 
obtained.  This  art  of  promising  is  the  economy  of  a 
great  man's  pride,  a  sort  of  good  husbandry  in  confer- 
ring favours,  by  which  they  receive  tenfold  in  acknowl- 
edgments for  every  obligation,  I  mean  among  those  who 
really  intend  the  service ;  for  there  are  others,  who 
16* 


186  THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA. 

cheat  poor  men  of  their  thanks,  without  ever  designing 
to  deserve  them  at  all. 

This  matter  being  sufficiently  discussed,  the  conversa- 
tion took  a  gayer  turn  ;  and  my  lord  began  to  entertain 
the  ladies  with  some  of  that  elegant  discourse  which, 
though  most  delightful  to  hear,  it  is  impossible  should 
ever  be  read. 

His  lordship  was  so  highly  pleased  with  Amelia,  that 
he  could  not  help  being  somewhat  particular  to  her; 
but  this  particularity  distinguished  itself  only  in  a  higher 
degree  of  respect,  and  was  so  very  pohte,  and  so  very 
distant,  that  she  herself  was  pleased ;  and  at  his  de- 
parture, which  was  not  till  he  had  far  exceeded  the 
length  of  a  common  visit,  declared  he  was  the  finest 
gentleman  she  had  ever  seen ;  with  which  sentiment  her 
husband  and  Mrs.  Ellison  both  entirely  concurred. 

Mrs.  Bennet,  on  the  contrary,  expressed  some  little 
dislike  to  my  lord's  complaisance,  which  she  called  ex- 
cessive. "  For  my  own  part,"  said  she,  "  I  have  not  the 
least  relish  for  those  very  fine  gentlemen  :  what  the 
world  generally  calls  politeness,  I  term  insincerity ;  and 
I  am  more  charmed  with  the  stories  which  Mrs.  Booth 
told  us  of  the  honest  sergeant,  than  with  all  that  the 
finest  gentlemen  in  the  world  ever  said  in  their  lives." 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  All  for  Love, 
or  the  World  well  Lost,  is  a  motto  very  proper  for  some 
folks  to  wear  in  their  coat  of  arms ;  but  the  generality 
of  the  world  will,  I  believe,  agree  with  that  lady's  opinion 
of  my  cousin,  rather  than  with  Mrs.  Bennet." 

Mrs.  Bennet,  seeing  Mrs.  Ellison  took  offence  at  what 
she  said,  thought  proper  to  make  some  apology,  which 
was  very  readily  accepted,  and  so  ended  the  visit. 

We  cannot,  however,  put  an  end  to  the  chapter  with- 
out observing,  that  such  is  the  ambitious  temper  of 
beauty,  that  it  may  always  apply  to  itself  that  celebrated 
passage  in  Lucan, 

"  Nee  quemquam  jam  ferre  potest  Caesarve  priorem, 
Pompeiusve  parem." 

Indeed,  I  believe  it  may  be  laid  down  as  a  general  rule, 
that  no  woman,  who  has  any  great  pretensions  to  admi- 
ration, is  ever  well  pleased  in  company,  where  she  per- 
ceives herself  to  fill  only  the  second  place.  This  obser- 
vation, however,  I  humbly  submit  to  the  judgment  of  the 
ladies,  and  hope  it  will  be  considered  as  retracted  by  me, 
if  they  shall  dissent  from  my  opinion. 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  187 


Chapter  IV. — Containing  matters  that  require  no  preface. 

When  Booth  and  his  wife  were  left  alone  together, 
they  both  extremely  exulted  in  their  good  fortune,  in  hav- 
ing found  so  good  a  friend  as  his  lordship ;  nor  were  they 
wanting  in  very  warm  expressions  of  their  gratitude  to- 
wards Mrs.  Ellison ;  after  which,  they  began  to  lay  down 
schemes  of  living  when  Booth  should  have  his  commis- 
sion of  captain ;  and,  after  the  exactest  computation, 
concluded,  that,  with  economy,  they  should  be  able  to 
save  at  least  fifty  pounds  a  year  out  of  their  income,  in 
order  to  pay  their  debts. 

These  matters  being  well  settled,  Amelia  asked  Booth 
what  he  thought  of  Mrs.  Bennet.  "  I  think,  my  dear," 
answered  Booth,  "  that  she  has  been  formerly  a  very 
pretty  woman."  "  I  am  mistaken,"  replied  she,  "  if  she 
be  not  a  very  good  creature.  I  don't  know  I  ever  took 
such  a  liking  to  any  one  on  so  short  an  acquaintance.  I 
fancy  she  has  been  a  very  sprightly  woman  ;  for,  if  you 
observe,  she  discovers,  by  starts,  a  great  vivacity  in  her 
countenance."  "  I  made  the  same  observation,"  cries 
Booth  :  "  sure  some  strange  misfortune  has  befallen  her." 
"A  misfortune  indeed  !"  answered  Amelia  ;  "  sure,  child, 
you  forget  what  Mrs.  Ellison  told  us,  that  she  had  lost 
a  beloved  husband;  a  misfortune  which  I  have  often 
wondered  at  any  woman's  surviving."  At  which  words 
she  cast  a  tender  look  at  Booth,  and  presently  after- 
ward throwing  herself  upon  his  neck,  cried,  "  Oh  Hea- 
vens !  what  a  happy  creature  am  I !  when  I  consider 
the  dangers  you  have  gone  through,  how  I  exult  in  my 
bhss  !"  The  good-natured  reader  will  suppose  that  Booth 
was  not  deficient  in  returning  such  tenderness ;  after 
which,  the  conversation  became  too  fond  to  be  here  re- 
lated. 

The  next  morning,  Mrs.  Ellison  addressed  herself  to 
Booth  as  follows  :  "  I  shall  make  no  apology,  sir,  for 
what  I  am  going  to  say,  as  it  proceeds  from  my  friend- 
ship for  yourself  and  your  dear  lady.  I  am  convinced 
then,  sir,  there  is  something  more  than  accident  in  your 
going  abroad  only  one  day  in  the  week.  Now,  sir,  if, 
as  I  am  afraid,  matters  are  not  altogether  as  well  as  I 
wish  them,  I  beg,  since  I  do  not  believe  you  are  pro- 
vided with  a  lawyer,  that  you  will  suffer  me  to  recom- 


188  THE    HISTORY    OP  AMELIA. 

mend  one  to  you.  The  person  I  shall  mention,  is,  I 
assure  you,  of  much  ability  in  his  profession,  and  1  have 
known  him  do  great  services  to  gentlemen  under  a 
cloud.  Do  not  be  ashamed  of  your  circumstances,  my 
dear  friend  ;  they  are  a  much  greater  scandal  to  those 
who  have  left  so  much  merit  unprovided  for." 

Booth  gave  Mrs.  Ellison  abundance  of  thanks  for  her 
kindness,  and  explicitly  confessed  to  her  that  her  con- 
jectures were  right,  and  without  hesitation  accepted  the 
offer  of  her  friend's  assistance. 

Mrs.  Ellison  then  acquainted  him  with  her  appre- 
hensions on  his  account.  She  said  she  had  both  yes- 
terday and  this  morning  seen  two  or  three  very  ugly, 
suspicious  fellows  pass  several  times  by  her  window. 
'*  Upon  all  accounts,"  said  she,  "  my  dear  sir,  I  advise 
you  to  keep  yourself  close  confined  till  the  lawyer  has 
been  with  you.  I  am  sure  he  will  get  you  your  liberty, 
at  least  of  walking  about  within  the  verge.  There's 
something  to  be  done  with  the  board  of  green  cloth,  I 
don't  know  what ;  but  this  I  know,  that  several  gentle- 
men have  lived  here  a  long  time  very  comfortably,  and 
have  defied  all  the  vengeance  of  their  creditors.  How- 
ever, in  the  mean  time,  you  must  be  a  close  prisoner 
with  your  lady  ;  and  I  believe  there  is  no  man  in  Eng- 
land but  would  exchange  his  liberty  for  the  same  jail." 

She  then  departed  in  order  to  send  for  the  attorney, 
and  presently  afterward  the  sergeant  arrived  with  news 
of  the  like  kind.  He  said,  he  had  scraped  an  acquaint- 
ance with  Murphy.  "  1  hope  your  honour  will  pardon 
me,"  cries  Atkinson ;  "  but  I  pretended  to  have  a  small 
demand  upon  your  honour  myself,  and  offered  to  em- 
ploy him  in  the  business ;  upon  which,  he  told  me,  that 
if  I  would  go  with  him  to  the  marshal's  court,  and  make 
affidavit  of  my  debt,  he  would  be  able  very  shortly  to 
get  it  me :  '  for  I  shall  have  the  captain  in  hold,'  cries 
he,  '  within  a  day  or  two.'  1  wish,"  said  the  sergeant, 
"  I  could  do  your  honour  any  service.  Shall  I  walk 
about  all  day  before  the  door  1  or  shall  I  be  porter,  and 
watch  it  in  the  inside,  till  your  honour  can  find  some 
means  of  securing  yourself?  1  hope  you  will  not  be 
off'ended  at  me,  but  I  beg  you  would  take  care  of  fall- 
ing into  Murphy's  hands;  for  he  has  the  character  of 
the  greatest  villain  upon  earth.  I  am  afraid  you  will 
think  me  too  bold,  sir :  but  I  have  a  little  money  :  if  it 
can  be  of  any  service,  do,  pray  your  honour,  command 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  189 

it.  It  can  never  do  me  so  much  good  any  other  way. 
Consider,  sir,  I  owe  all  I  have  to  yourself  and  my  dear 
mistress." 

Booth  stood  a  moment  as  if  he  had  been  thunder- 
struck, and  then,  the  tears  bursting  from  his  eyes,  he 
said,  "  Upon  my  soul,  Atkinson,  you  overcome  me : 
I  scarce  ever  heard  of  so  much  goodness,  nor  do  I  know 
how  to  express  my  sentiments  of  it ;  but  be  assured,  as 
for  your  money,  1  will  not  accept  it ;  and  let  it  satisfy 
you,  that  in  my  present  circumstances  it  would  do  me 
no  essential  service;  but  this  be  assured  of  likewise, 
that  while  I  live,  I  shall  never  forget  the  kindness  of  the 
offer.  However,  as  I  apprehend  1  may  be  in  some  danger 
of  fellows  getting  into  the  house,  for  a  day  or  two,  as  I 
have  no  guard  but  a  poor  little  girl,  I  will  not  refuse  the 
goodness  you  offer  to  show  in  my  protection ;  and  I 
make  no  doubt  but  Mrs.  Ellison  will  let  you  sit  in  her 
parlour  for  that  purpose." 

Atkinson,  with  the  utmost  readiness,  undertook  the 
office  of  porter;  and  Mrs.  Ellison  as  readily  allotted 
him  a  place  in  her  back  parlour,  where  he  continued 
three  days  together,  from  eight  in  the  morning  till 
twelve  at  night ;  during  which  time  he  had  sometimes 
the  company  of  Mrs.  Ellison,  and  sometimes  of  Booth, 
Amelia,  and  Mrs.  Bennet  too ;  for  this  last  had  taken 
as  great  a  fancy  to  Amelia  as  Amelia  had  to  her  ; 
and  therefore,  as  Mr.  Booth's  affairs  were  now  no  secret 
in  the  neighbourhood,  made  her  frequent  visits  during 
the  confinement  of  her  husband,  and  consequently  her 
own. 

Nothing,  as  I  remember,  happened  in  this  interval  of 
time  more  worthy  of  notice  than  the  following  card, 
which  Amelia  received  from  her  old  acquaintance  Mrs. 
James:  "Mrs.  James  sends  her  comphments  to  Mrs. 
Booth,  and  she  desires  to  know  how  she  does ;  for,  as 
she  has  not  had  the  favourof  seeing  her  at  her  own  house, 
or  of  meeting  her  in  any  public  place,  in  so  long  a  time, 
she  fears  it  may  be  owing  to  ill  health." 

Ameha  had  long  given  over  all  thoughts  of  her  friend, 
and  doubted  not  but  that  she  was  as  entirely  given  over 
by  her :  she  was  very  much  surprised  at  this  message, 
and  under  some  doubt  whether  it  was  not  meant  as  an 
insult,  especially  from  the  mention  of  public  places, 
which  she  thought  so  inconsistent  with  her  present  cir- 
cumstances, of  which  she  supposed  Mrs.  James  was  well 


190  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

apprized.  However,  at  the  entreaty  of  her  husband, 
who  languished  for  nothing  more  than  to  be  again  rec- 
onciled to  his  friend  James,  Amelia  undertook  to  pay 
the  lady  a  visit,  and  to  examine  into  the  mystery  of  this 
conduct,  which  appeared  to  her  so  unaccountable. 

Mrs.  James  received  her  with  a  degree  of  civility  that 
amazed  Amelia,  no  less  than  her  coldness  had  done  be- 
fore. She  resolved  to  come  to  an  eclaircissement ;  and 
having  sat  out  some  company  that  came  in,  when  they 
were  alone  together,  Amelia,  after  some  silence,  and 
many  offers  to  speak,  at  last  said,  '•  My  dear  Jenny,  (if 
you  will  now  suffer  me  to  call  you  by  so  familiar  a 
name,)  have  you  entirely  forgotten  a  certain  young  lady 
who  had  the  pleasure  of  being  your  intimate  acquaint- 
ance at  Montpelier?"  "Whom  do  you  mean,  dear 
madam  ?"  cries  Mrs.  James,  with  great  concern.  "  I 
mean  myself,"  answered  Amelia.  "  You  surprise  me, 
madam,"  replied  Mrs.  James:  "how  can  you  ask  me 
that  question  V  "  Nay,  my  dear,  I  do  not  intend  to  of- 
fend you,"  cries  Amelia;  "but  I  am  really  desirous  to 
solve  to  myself  the  reason  of  that  coldness  which  you 
showed  me,  when  you  did  me  the  favour  of  a  visit.  Can 
you  think,  my  dear,  I  was  not  disapponited,  when  I  ex- 
pected to  meet  an  intimate  friend,  to  receive  a  cold,  for- 
mal visitant  ?  I  desire  you  to  examine  your  own  heart, 
and  answer  me  honestly,  if  you  do  not  think  I  had  some 
little  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  your  behaviour?" 
"  Indeed,  Mrs.  Booth,"  answered  the  other  lady,  "  you 
surprise  me  very  much  :  if  there  was  anything  displeas- 
ing to  you  in  my  behaviour,  I  am  extremely  concerned 
at  it.  1  did  not  know  I  had  been  defective  in  any  of 
the  rules  of  civility;  but  if  1  was,  madam,  I  ask  your 
pardon."  "Is  civility  then,  my  dear,"  replied  Amelia, 
*'  a  synonymous  term  with  friendship  ?  Could  I  have 
expected,  when  I  parted  the  last  time  with  Miss  Jenny 
Bath,  to  have  met  her  the  next  time  in  the  shape  of  a 
fine  lady,  complaining  of  the  hardship  of  climbing  up 
two  pair  of  stairs  to  visit  me,  and  then  approaching  me 
with  the  distant  air  of  a  new  and  slight  acquaintance  1 
Do  you  think,  my  dear  Mrs.  James,  if  the  tables  had 
been  turned ;  if  my  fortune  had  been  as  high  in  the 
world  as  yours,  and  you  in  my  distressed  and  abject 
condition—that  I  would  not  have  climbed  as  high  as  the 
Monument  to  visit  you"?"  *'  Sure,  madam,"  cried  Mrs. 
James, "  I  mistake  you,  or  you  have  greatly  mistaken  me. 


THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA.  191 

Can  you  complain  of  my  not  visiting  you,  who  have  owed 
me  a  visit  almost  these  three  weeks  ?  Nay,  did  I  not 
even  then  send  you  a  card,  which  sure  was  doing  more 
than  all  the  friendship  and  good-breeding  in  the  world  re- 
quired 1  but,  indeed,  as  I  had  met  you  in  no  public  place, 
1  really  thought  you  was  ill."  "  How  can  you  mention 
public  places  to  me,"  said  Amelia,  "  when  you  can  hard- 
ly be  a  stranger  to  my  present  situation]  Did  you  not 
know,  madam,  that  I  was  ruined  ]"  "  No,  indeed, 
madam,  did  I  not,"  replied  Mrs.  James :  "  I  am  sure  I 
should  have  been  highly  concerned  if  I  had."  "Why, 
sure,  my  dear,"  cries  Amelia,  "  you  could  not  imagine 
we  were  in  affluent  circumstances,  when  you  found 
us  in  such  a  place  and  in  such  a  condition."  "Nay,  my 
dear,"  answered  Mrs.  James ;  "  since  you  are  pleased 
to  mention  it  first  yourself,  I  own  1  was  a  little  sur- 
prised to  see  you  in  no  better  lodgings ;  but  I  conclu- 
ded you  had  your  own  reasons  for  liking  them  ;  and,  for 
my  own  part,  1  have  laid  it  down  as  a  positive  rule, 
never  to  inquire  into  the  private  affairs  of  any  one,  es- 
pecially of  my  friends.  I  am  not  of  the  humour  of 
some  ladies,  who  confine  the  circle  of  their  acquaint- 
ance to  one  part  of  the  town,  and  would  not  be  known 
to  visit  in  the  city  for  the  world.  P^or  my  part,  I  never 
dropped  an  acquaintance  with  any  one  while  it  was  rep- 
utable to  keep  it  up ;  and  1  can  solemnly  declare  I  have 
not  a  friend  in  the  world  for  whom  1  have  a  greater  es- 
teem than  I  have  for  Mrs.  Booth." 

At  this  instant,  the  arrival  of  a  new  visitant  put  an 
end  to  the  discourse;  and  Ameha  soon  after  took  her 
leave,  without  the  least  anger,  but  with  some  little  un- 
avoidable contempt  for  a  lady,  in  whose  opinion,  as  we 
have  hinted  before,  outward  form  and  ceremony  consti- 
tuted the  whole  essence  of  friendship ;  who  valued  all 
her  acquaintance  alike,  as  each  individual  served  equally 
to  fill  up  a  place  in  her  visiting  roll ;  and  who,  in  reality, 
had  not  the  least  concern  for  the  good  qualities  or  well- 
being  of  any  of  them. 


Chapter  V.— Containing  much  heroic  matter. 

At  the  end  of  three  days,  Mrs.  Ellison's  friend  had  so 
far  purchased  Mr.  Booth's  liberty,  that  he  could  walk 


192  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

again  abroad  within  the  verge,  without  any  danger  of 
having  a  warrant  backed  against  him  by  the  board  before 
he  had  notice.  As  for  the  ill-looked  persons  that  had 
given  the  alarm,  it  was  now  discovered  that  another 
unhappy  gentleman,  and  not  Booth,  was  the  object  of 
their  pursuir. 

Mr.  Booth  now  being  delivered  from  his  fears,  went, 
as  he  had  formerly  done,  to  take  his  morning  walk  in 
the  Park.  Here  he  met  Colonel  Bath  in  company  with 
some  other  officers,  and  very  civilly  paid  his  respects  to 
him  ;  but,  instead  of  returning  the  salute,  the  colonel 
looked  him  full  in  the  face  with  a  very  stern  counte- 
nance ;  and,  if  he  could  be  said  to  take  any  notice  of 
him,  it  was  in  such  a  manner  as  to  inform  him  he  would 
take  no  notice  of  him. 

Booth  was  not  more  hurt  than  surprised  at  this  be- 
haviour, and  resolved  to  know  the  reason  of  it.  He 
therefore  watched  an  opportunity  till  the  colonel  was 
alone,  and  then  walked  boldly  up  to  him,  and  desired  to 
know  if  he  had  given  him  any  offence.  The  colonel  an- 
swered hastily,  "  Sir,  I  am  above  being  offended  with 
you,  nor  do  I  think  it  consistent  with  my  dignity  to 
make  you  any  answer."  Booth  replied,  '*!  don't  know, 
sir,  that  I  have  done  anything  to  deserve  this  treat- 
ment." "Look'ee,  sir,"  cries  the  colonel,  "if  I  had  not 
formerly  had  some  respect  for  you,  I  should  not  think 
you  worth  my  resentment :  however,  as  you  are  a  gen- 
tleman born,  and  an  officer,  and  as  I  have  had  an  esteem 
for  you,  I  will  give  you  some  marks  of  it  by  putting  it  in 
your  power  to  do  yourself  justice  :  I  will  tell  you  there- 
fore sir,  that  you  havB  acted  like  a  scoundrel."  "  If  we 
were  not  in  the  Park,"  answered  Booth,  warmly,  "  I 
would  thank  you  very  properly  for  that  compliment." 
"  Oh,  sir,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  we  can  be  soon  in  a  con- 
venient place."  Upon  which  Booth  answered,  he  would 
attend  him  wherever  he  pleased.  The  colonel  then  bid 
him  come  along,  and  strutted  forward  directly  up  Con- 
stitution Hill  to  Hyde  Park,  Booth  following  him  at  first, 
and  afterward  walking  before  him,  till  they  came  to 
that  place  which  may  be  properly  called  the  field  of 
blood,  being  that  part,  a  little  to  the  left  of  the  ring, 
which  heroes  have  chosen  for  the  scene  of  their  exit  out 
of  this  world. 

Booth  reached  the  ring  some  time  before  the  colonel : 
for  he  mended  not  his  pace  any  more  than  a  Spaniard. 


THE.   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  193 

To  say  truth,  I  believe  it  was  not  in  his  power;  for  he 
had  so  long  accustomed  himself  to  one  and  the  same 
strut,  that,  as  a  horse,  used  alway  to  trotting,  can  scarce 
be  forced  into  a  gallop,  so  could  no  passion  force  the 
colonel  to  alter  his  pace. 

At  length,  however,  both  parties  arrived  at  the  lists, 
where  the  colonel  very  deliberately  took  off  his  wig  and 
coat,  and  laid  them  on  the  grass ;  and  then,  drawing  his 
sword,  advanced  to  Booth,  who  had  likewise  his  drawn 
weapon  in  his  hand,  but  had  made  no  other  preparation 
for  the  combat. 

The  combatants  now  engaged  with  great  fury,  and, 
after  two  or  three  passes,  Booth  ran  the  colonel  through 
the  body,  and  threw  him  on  the  ground,  at  the  same  time 
possessing  himself  of  the  colonel's  sword. 

As  soon  as  the  colonel  was  become  master  of  his 
speech,  he  called  out  to  Booth  in  a  very  kind  voice,  and 
said,  "  You  have  done  my  business,  and  satisfied  me 
that  you  are  a  man  of  honour,  and  that  my  brother  James 
must  have  been  mistaken ;  for  I  am  convinced  that  no 
man  who  will  draw  his  sword  in  so  gallant  a  manner 
is  capable  of  being  a  rascal.  D — n  me,  give  me  a  buss, 
my  dear  boy :  I  ask  your  pardon  for  that  infamous  ap- 
pellation I  dishonoured  your  dignity  with,  but,  d — n 
me,  if  it  was  not  purely  out  of  love,  and  to  give  you  an 
opportunity  of  doing  yourself  justice,  which  I  own  you 
have  done  like  a  man  of  honour.  What  may  be  the 
consequence  I  know  not ;  but  I  hope,  at  least,  I  shall 
live  to  reconcile  you  with  my  brother." 

Booth  showed  great  concern  and  even  horror  in  his 
countenance.  "  Why,  my  dear  colonel,"  said  he,  "  would 
you  force  me  to  this  1  for  Heaven's  sake,  tell  me  what  I 
have  ever  done  to  offend  you." 

"  Me  !"  cried  the  colonel :  "  indeed,  my  dear  child,  you 
never  did  anything  to  offend  me.  Nay,  I  have  acted 
the  part  of  a  friend  to  you  in  the  whole  affair.  I  main- 
tained your  cause  with  my  brother  as  long  as  decency 
would  permit:  I  could  not  flatly  contradict  him,  though, 
indeed,  I  scarce  believed  him.  But  what  could  I  do  ?  if 
I  had  not  fought  with  you,  I  must  have  been  obliged  to 
have  fought  with  him  :  however,  I  hope  what  is  done 
will  be  sufficient,  and  that  matters  maybe  accommodated 
without  your  being  put  to  the  necessity  of  fighting  any 
more  on  this  occasion." 

"  Never  regard  me,"  cried  Booth,  eagerly :  "  for 
17  I 


194  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

Heaven's  sake,  think  of  your  own  preservation.  Let  me 
put  you  into  a  chair,  and.  get  you  a  surgeon." 

"  Thou  art  a  noble  lad,"  cries  the  colonel,  who  was 
now  g-ot  on  his  legs,  "  and  I  am  glad  the  business  is  so 
well  over;  for  though  your  sword  went  quite  through, 
it  slanted  so,  that  1  apprehend  there  is  little  danger  of 
life.  However,  I  think  there  is  enough  done  to  put  an 
honourable  end  to  the  affair,  especially  as  you  was  so 
hasty  to  disarm  me.  I  bleed  a  little,  but  I  can  walk  to 
the  house  by  the  water :  and  if  you  will  send  me  a  chair 
thither,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  you." 

As  the  colonel  refused  any  assistance,  (indeed,  he 
was  very  able  to  walk  without  it,  though  with  some- 
what less  dignity  than  usual,)  Booth  set  forward  to 
Grosvenor  Gate,  in  order  to  procure  the  chair,  and  soon 
after  returned  with  one  to  his  friend;  whom,  having 
conveyed  into  it,  he  attended  himself  on  foot  into  Bond- 
street,  where  then  lived  a  very  eminent  surgeon. 

The  surgeon,  having  probed  the  wound,  turned  towards 
Booth,  who  was  apparently  the  guilty  person,  and  said, 
with  a  smile,  "  Upon  my  word,  sir,  you  have  performed 
the  business  with  great  dexterity." 

♦'  Sir,"  cries  the  colonel  to  the  surgeon,  "  I  would  not 
have  you  imagine  I  am  afraid  to  die.  I  think  I  know 
more  what  belongs  to  the  dignity  of  a  man ;  and  I  be- 
lieve I  have  shown  it  at  the  head  of  a  line  of  battle. 
Do  not  impute  my  concern  to  that  fear,  when  I  ask  you 
whether  there  is  or  is  not  any  danger." 

"  Really,  colonel,"  answered  the  surgeon,  who  well 
knew  the  complexion  of  the  gentleman  then  under  his 
hands,  "  it  would  appear  like  presumption  to  say  that  a 
man  who  has  been  just  run  through  the  body  is  in  no 
manner  of  danger.  But  this,  1  think,  I  may  assure  you, 
that  I  yet  perceive  no  very  bad  symptoms  ;  and,  unless 
something  worse  should  appear,  or  a  fever  be  the  con- 
sequence, I  hope  you  may  live  to  be  again,  with  all  your 
dignity,  at  the  head  of  a  line  of  battle." 

"  1  am  glad  to  hear  that  is  your  opinion,"  quoth  the 
colonel ;  "  for  I  am  not  desirous  of  dying,  though  I  am 
not  afraid  of  it.  But  if  anything  worse  than  you  ap- 
prehend should  happen,  I  desire  you  will  be  a  witness  of 
my  declaration,  that  this  young  gentleman  is  entirely 
innocent.  I  forced  him  to  do  what  he  did.  My  dear 
Booth,  I  am  pleased  matters  are  as  they  are.  You  are 
the  first  man  that  ever  gained  an  advantage  over  rae ; 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  195 

but  it  was  very  lucky  for  you  that  you  disarmed  me, 
and  I  doubt  not  but  you  have  the  equanimity  to  think  so. 
If  the  business,  therefore,  has  ended  without  doing  any- 
thing to  the  purpose,  it  was  Fortune's  pleasure,  and  nei- 
ther of  our  faults." 

Booth  heartily  embraced  the  colonel,  and  assured  him  of 
the  great  satisfaction  he  had  received  from  the  surgeon's 
opinion ;  and  soon  after  the  two  combatants  took  their 
leave  of  each  other.  The  colonel,  after  he  was  dressed, 
went  in  a  chair  to  his  lodgings,  and  Booth  walked  on 
foot  to  his,  where  he  luckily  arrived  without  meeting 
any  of  Mr.  Murphy's  gang  ;  a  danger  which  never  once 
occurred  to  his  imagination  till  he  was  out  of  it. 

The  affair  he  had  been  about  had  indeed  so  entirely 
occupied  his  mind,  that  it  had  obliterated  every  other 
idea ;  among  the  rest,  it  caused  him  so  absolutely  to 
forget  the  time  of  the  day,  that  though  he  had  exceeded 
the  time  of  dining  above  two  hours,  he  had  not  the 
least  suspicion  of  being  at  home  later  than  usual. 


Chapter  VI. — In  which  the  reader  will  find  m-itter  worthy  his 
consideration. 

Amelia,  having  waited  above  an  hour  for  her  husband, 
concluded,  as  he  was  the  most  punctual  man  alive,  that 
he  had  met  with  some  engagement  abroad,  and  sat 
down  to  her  meal  with  her  children;  which,  as  it  was 
always  uncomfortable  in  the  absence  of  her  husband, 
was  very  short ;  so  that,  before  his  return,  all  the  ap- 
paratus of  dining  was  entirely  removed. 

Booth  sat  some  time  with  his  wife,  expecting  every 
minute  when  the  little  maid  would  make  her  appear- 
ance ;  at  last,  curiosity,  I  believe,  rather  than  appetite, 
made  him  ask  how  long  it  was  to  dinner.  "  To  dinner, 
my  dear?"  answered  Amelia:  "sure  you  have  dined,  I 
hope]"  Booth  replied  in  the  negative;  upon  which  his 
wife  started  from  her  chair,  and  bestirred  herself  as 
nimbly  to  provide  him  a  repast,  as  the  most  industrious 
hostess  in  the  kingdom  does,  when  some  unexpected 
guest  of  extraordinary  quality  arrives  at  her  house. 

The  reader  has  not,  I  think,  from  any  passages 
hitherto  recorded  in  this  history,  had  much  reason  to 
accuse  Amelia  of  a  blameable  curiosity:  he  will  not, 
I  hope,  conclude  that  she  gave  an  instance  of  any  such 


196  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA, 

fault,  when,  upon  Booth's  having  so  long  overstayed 
his  time,  and  so  greatly  mistaken  the  hour  of  the  day, 
and  upon  some  other  circumstances  of  his  behaviour, 
(for  he  was  too  honest  to  be  good  at  concealing  any  of 
his  thoughts,)  she  said  to  him,  after  he  had  done  eat- 
ing, "My  dear,  I  am  sure  something  more  than  ordi- 
nary has  happened  to-day,  and  I  beg  you  will  tell  me 
what  it  is." 

Booth  answered,  that  nothing  of  any  consequence 
had  happened ;  that  he  had  been  detained  by  a  friend, 
whom  he  met  accidentally,  longer  than  he  expected. 
In  short,  he  made  many  shuffling  and  evasive  answers, 
not  boldly  lying  out,  which,  perhaps,  would  have  suc- 
ceeded, but  poorly  and  vainly  endeavouring  to  reconcile 
falsehood  with  truth  ; — an  attempt  which  seldom  fails 
to  betray  the  most  practised  deceiver. 

How  impossible  was  it,  therefore,  for  poor  Booth  to 
succeed  in  an  art  for  which  Nature  had  so  entirely  dis- 
qualified him  !  His  countenance,  indeed,  confessed  faster 
than  his  tongue  denied  ;  and  the  whole  of  his  behaviour 
gave  Amelia  an  alarm,  and  made  her  suspect  something 
very  bad  had  happened ;  and  as  her  thoughts  turned 
presently  on  the  badness  of  their  circumstances,  she 
feared  some  mischief  from  his  creditors  had  befallen 
him :  for  she  was  too  ignorant  of  such  matters  to 
know  that  if  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Philis- 
tines, (which  is  the  name  given  by  the  faithful  to  bai- 
liffs,) he  would  hardly  have  been  able  so  soon  to  recover 
his  liberty.  Booth  at  last  perceived  her  to  be  so  uneasy, 
that,  as  he  saw  no  hopes  of  contriving  any  fiction  to 
satisfy  her,  he  thought  himself  obliged  to  tell  her  the 
truth,  or  at  least  part  of  the  truth,  and  confessed  that  he 
had  had  a  little  skirmish  with  Colonel  Bath,  in  which, 
he  said,  the  colonel  had  received  a  slight  wound,  not  at 
all  dangerous;  "  and  this,"  says  he,  "  is  all  the  whole 
matter."  "  If  it  be  so,"  cries  Amelia,  "  I  thank  Heaven 
no  worse  has  happened ;  but  v.hy,  my  dear,  will  you 
ever  converse  with  that  madman,  who  can  embrace  a 
friend  one  moment,  and  fight  with  him  the  next  ?" 
*'Nay,  my  dear,"  answered  Booth,  "you  yourself  must 
confess,  though  he  be  a  little  too  much  on  the  qui  ?-w<?, 
he  is  a  man  of  great  honour  and  good-nature."  "  Tell 
me  not,"  replied  she,  "  of  such  good-nature  and  honour 
as  would  sacrifice  a  friend,  and  a  whole  family,  to  a 
ridiculous  whim.     Oh  Heavens  !"  cried  she,  falling  upon 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  197 

her  knees,  "  from  what  misery  have  I  escaped,  from 
what  have  these  poor  babes  escaped,  through  your  gra- 
cious providence  this  day  !"  Then,  turning  to  her  hus- 
band, she  cried,  "  But  are  you  sure  the  monster's  wound 
is  no  more  dangerous  than  you  say  1  a  monster  surely 
I  may  call  him,  who  can  quarrel  with  a  man  that  could 
not,  that  I  am  convinced  would  not,  offend  him !" 

Upon  this  question,  Booth  repeated  the  assurances 
which  the  surgeon  had  given  them,  perhaps  with  a  little 
enlargement,  which  pretty  well  satisfied  Amelia ;  and, 
instead  of  blaming  her  husband  for  what  he  had  done, 
she  tenderly  embraced  him,  and  again  returned  thanks 
to  Heaven  for  his  safety. 

In  the  evening,  Booth  insisted  on  paying  a  short  visit 
to  the  colonel,  highly  against  the  inclination  of  Amelia, 
who,  by  many  arguments  and  entreaties,  endeavoured  to 
dissuade  her  husband  from  continuing  an  acquaintance, 
in  which,  she  said,  she  should  always  foresee  much 
danger  for  the  future.  However,  she  was  at  last  pre- 
vailed upon  to  acquiesce  ;  and  Booth  went  to  the  colonel, 
whose  lodgings  happened  to  be  in  the  verge  as  well  as 
his  own. 

He  found  the  colonel  in  his  nightgown  and  his  great 
chair,  engaged  with  another  officer  at  a  game  of  chess. 
He  rose  immediately,  and  having  heartily  embraced 
Booth,  presented  him  to  his  friend,  saying,  he  had  the 
honour  to  introduce  to  him  as  brave  and  as  fortitudinous 
a  man  as  any  in  the  king's  dominions.  He  then  took 
Booth  with  him  into  the  next  room,  and  desired  him 
not  to  mention  a  word  of  what  had  happened  in  the 
morning,  saying,  "  I  am  very  well  satisfied  that  no  more 
has  happened ;  however,  as  it  ended  in  nothing,  I  could 
wish  it  might  remain  a  secret."  Booth  told  him  he  was 
heartily  glad  to  find  him  so  well,  and  promised  never  to 
mention  it  more  to  any  one. 

The  game  at  chess  being  just  begun,  and  neither  of 
the  parties  having  gained  any  considerable  advantage, 
they  neither  of  them  insisted  on  continuing  it ;  and 
ROW  the  colonel's  antagonist  took  his  leave,  and  left 
the  colonel  and  Booth  together. 

As  soon  as  they  were  alone,  the  latter  earnestly  en- 
treated the  former  to  acquaint  him  with  the  real  cause 
of  his  anger;  "for,  may  I  perish,"  cries  Booth,  "if  I 
can  even  guess  what  I  have  ever  done  to  offend  either 
you,  or  your  brother,  Colonel  James." 
17* 


198  THE    HISTORY    OF    A2vrELlA. 

"  Look'ee,  child,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  I  tell  you  I  am 
for  my  own  part  satisfied ;  for  I  am  convinced  that  a 
man  who  will  fight  can  never  be  a  rascal ;  and  there- 
fore why  should  you  inquire  any  more  of  me  at  pres- 
ent 1  When  I  see  my  brother  James,  I  hope  to  recon- 
cile all  matters,  and  perhaps  no  more  swords  need  be 
drawn  on  this  occasion."  But  Booth  still  persisting  in 
his  desire,  the  colonel,  after  some  hesitation,  with  a 
tremendous  oath,  cried  out,  "I  do  not  think  myself  at 
liberty  to  refuse  you  after  the  indignity  I  off'ered  you; 
so,  since  you  demand  it  of  me,  I  will  inform  you.  My 
brother  told  me  you  had  used  him  dishonourably,  and 
had  divellicated  his  character  behind  his  back.  He 
gave  me  his  word  too,  that  he  was  well  assured  of  what 
he  said.  What  could  I  have  done  ]  though  I  own  to 
you  I  did  not  believe  him,  and  your  behaviour  since  has 
convinced  me  I  was  in  the  right.  I  must  either  have 
given  him  the  lie,  and  fought  with  him,  or  else  I  was 
obliged  to  behave  as  I  did,  and  fight  with  you.  And 
now,  my  lad,  I  leave  it  to  you  to  do  as  you  please  ;  but 
if  you  are  laid  under  any  necessity  to  do  yourself  far- 
ther justice,  it  is  your  own  fault." 

"  Alas  !  colonel,"  answered  Booth,  "besides  the  obli- 
gations I  have  to  the  colonel,  I  have  really  so  much 
love  for  him,  that  I  think  of  nothing  less  than  resent- 
ment. All  I  wish  is  to  have  this  affair  brought  to  an 
€claircisseme)2t,  and  to  satisfy  him  that  he  is  in  an  error: 
for  though  his  assertions  are  cruelly  injurious,  and  I 
have  never  deserved  them,  yet  I  am  convinced  he  would 
not  say  what  he  did  not  himself  think.  Some  rascal, 
envious  of  his  friendship  for  me,  has  belied  me  to  him  ; 
and  the  only  resentment  1  desire  is  to  convince  him  of 
his  mistake." 

At  these  w^ords  the  colonel  grinned  horribly  a  ghastly 
smile,  or  rather  sneer,  and  answered,  "  Young  gentle- 
man, you  may  do  as  you  please  ;  but,  by  the  eternal  dig- 
nity of  man,  if  any  man  breathing  had  taken  a  liberty 
with  my  character — here,  here,  Mr.  Booth,  (showing 
his  fingers,)  here,  d — n  me,  should  be  his  nostrils  :  he 
should  breathe  through  my  hands,  and  breathe  his  last, 
d — n  me." 

Booth  answered,  "  I  think,  colonel,  I  may  appeal  to 
your  testimony  that  I  dare  do  myself  justice  ;  since  he 
who  dare  draw  his  sword  against  you,  can  hardly  be 
supposed  to  fear  any  other  person  :  but  I  repeat  to  you 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  199 

again  that  I  love  Colonel  James  so  well,  and  am  so 
greatly  oblig-ed  to  him,  that  it  would  be  almost  indiffer- 
ent to  me  whether  I  directed  my  sword  against  his 
breast  or  my  own." 

The  colonel's  muscles  were  considerably  softened  by 
Booth's  last  speech ;  but  he  again  contracted  them  into 
a  vast  degree  of  fierceness  before  he  cried  out,  "  Boy, 
thou  hast  reason  enough  to  be  vain ;  for  thou  art  the 
first  person  that  ever  could  proudly  say  he  gained  an 
advantage  over  me  in  combat.  I  believe,  indeed,  thou 
art  not  afraid  of  any  man  breathing;  and  as  I  know  thou 
hast  some  obligations  to  my  brother,  I  do  not  discom- 
mend thee  ;  for  nothing  more  becomes  the  dignity  of  a 
man  than  gratitude.  Besides,  as  I  am  satisfied  my  bro- 
ther can  produce  the  author  of  the  slander,  (I  say,  I  am 
satisfied  of  that ;  d — n  me,  if  any  man  alive  dares  assert 
the  contrary,  for  that  would  be  to  make  my  brother 
himself  a  liar,)  I  will  make  him  produce  his  author;  and 
then,  my  dear  boy,  your  doing  yourself  proper  justice 
there  will  bring  you  finely  out  of  the  whole  aff'air.  As 
soon  as  my  surgeon  gives  me  leave  to  go  abroad,  which 
I  hope  will  be  in  a  few  days,  I  will  bring  my  brother 
James  to  a  tavern,  where  you  shall  meet  us ;  and  I  will 
engage  my  honour,  my  whole  dignity  to  you,  to  make 
you  friends." 

The  assurance  of  the  colonel  gave  Booth  great  pleas- 
ure ;  for  few  persons  ever  loved  a  friend  better  than  he 
did  James;  and  as  for  doing  military  justice  on  the  au- 
thor of  that  scandalous  report  which  had  incensed  his 
friend  against  him,  not  Bath  himself  was  ever  more  ready 
on  such  an  occasion  than  Booth  to  execute  it.  He 
soon  after  took  his  leave,  and  returned  home  in  high 
spirits  to  his  Amelia,  whom  he  found  in  Mrs.  Ellison's 
apartment,  engaged  in  a  party  at  ombre  with  that  lady 
and  her  right  honourable  cousin. 

His  lordship  had,  it  seems,  had  a  second  interview 
with  the  great  man,  and  having  obtained  farther  hopes 
(for  I  think  there  was  not  yet  an  absolute  promise)  of 
success  in  INIr.  Booth's  affairs,  his  usual  good-nature 
brought  him  immediately  to  acquaint  Mr.  Booth  with  it. 
As  he  did  not  therefore  find  him  at  home,  and  as  he  met 
with  the  two  ladies  together,  he  resolved  to  stay  till  his 
friend's  return,  w^hich  he  was  assured  would  not  be 
long,  especially  as  he  was  so  lucky,  he  said,  to  have  no 
particular  engaarement  that  whole  evening. 


200  THE    HISTORY    Of    AMELIA. 

We  remarked  before  that  his  lordship,  at  the  first  in- 
terview with  AmeUa,  had  distinguished  her  by  a  more 
particular  address  from  the  other  ladies  ;  but  that  now 
appeared  to  be  rather  owing  to  his  perfect  good-breed- 
ing, as  she  was  then  to  be  considered  as  the  mistress  of 
the  house,  than  from  any  other  preference.  His  pres- 
ent behaviour  made  this  still  more  manifest ;  for  as  he 
was  now  in  Mrs.  EUison's  apartment,  though  she  was 
his  relation  and  an  old  acquaintance,  he  applied  his  con- 
versation rather  more  to  her  than  to  Amelia.  His  eyes, 
indeed,  were  now  and  then  guilty  of  the  contrary  dis- 
tinction, but  this  was  only  by  stealth;  for  they  con- 
stantly withdrew  the  moment  they  were  discovered. 
In  short,  he  treated  Amelia  with  the  greatest  distance, 
and  at  the  same  time  with  the  most  profound  and  awful 
respect :  his  conversation  was  so  general,  so  lively,  and 
so  obhging,  that  Amelia,  when  she  added  to  his  agree- 
ableness  the  obligations  she  had  to  him  for  his  friend- 
ship to  Booth,  was  certainly  as  much  pleased  with  his 
lordship  as  any  virtuous  woman  can  possibly  be  with 
any  man  besides  her  own  husband. 


Chapter  VII. — Containing  various  matters. 

We  have  already  mentioned  the  good-humour  in  which 
Booth  returned  home  ;  and  the  reader  will  easily  beheve 
it  was  not  a  little  increased  by  the  good-humour  in 
which  he  found  his  company.  My  lord  received  him 
with  the  utmost  marks  of  friendship  and  affection,  and 
told  him  that  his  affairs  went  on  as  well  almost  as  he 
himself  could  desire,  and  that  he  doubted  not  very  soon 
to  wish  him  joy  of  a  company. 

When  Booth  had  made  a  proper  return  to  all  his  lord- 
ship's unparalleled  goodness,  he  whispered  Amelia  that 
the  colonel  was  entirely  out  of  danger,  and  almost  as 
well  as  himself.  This  made  her  satisfaction  complete, 
threw  her  into  such  spirits,  and  gave  such  a  lustre  to 
her  eyes,  that  her  face,  as  Horace  says,  was  too  dazzling 
to  be  looked  at ;  it  was  certainly  too  handsome  to  be 
looked  at  without  the  highest  admiration. 

His  lordship  departed  about  ten  o'clock,  and  left  the 
company  in  raptures  with  him,  especially  the  two  ladies, 
of  whom  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  exceeded  the  other 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  201 

in  his  commendations.  Mrs.  Ellison  swore  she  believed 
he  was  the  best  of  all  human  kind  ;  and  Amelia,  with- 
out making  aii}'  exception,  declared  he  was  the  finest 
gentleman  and  the  most  agreeable  man  she  had  ever 
seen  in  her  life  ;  adding,  it  was  a  great  pity  he  should 
remain  single.  "  That's  true,  indeed,"  cries  Mrs.  Elli- 
son ;  "  and  I  have  often  lamented  it,  nay,  I  am  aston- 
ished at  it,  considering  the  great  liking  he  always  show8 
for  our  sex,  and  he  may  certainly  have  the  choice  of 
all.  The  real  reason,  I  believe,  is  his  fondness  for  his 
sister's  children.  I  declare,  madam,  if  you  was  to  see 
his  behaviour  to  them,  you  would  think  they  were  his 
own.  Indeed,  he  is  vastly  fond  of  all  manner  of  chil- 
dren." "Good  creature!"  cries  Amelia:  "if  ever  he 
does  me  the  honour  of  another  visit,  I  am  resolved  I  will 
show  him  my  little  things.  I  think,  Mrs.  Ellison,  as 
you  say  my  lord  loves  children,  I  may  say  without  van- 
ity, he  will  not  see  many  such."  "  No,  indeed,  will  he 
not,"  answered  Mrs.  Ellison  ;  "  and  now  I  think  on't, 
madam,  I  wonder  at  my  own  stupidity  in  never  making 
the  offer  before  ;  but,  since  you  put  it  into  my  head,  if 
you  will  give  me  leave,  I'll  take  master  and  miss  to 
wait  on  my  lord's  nephew  and  niece.  They  are  very 
pretty-behaved  children  ;  and  little  master  and  miss  will 
be,  1  dare  swear,  very  happy  in  their  acquaintance  :  be- 
sides, if  my  lord  himself  should  see  them,  I  know  what 
will  happen,  for  he  is  the  most  generous  of  all  human 
beings." 

Amelia  very  readily  accepted  the  favour  which  Mrs. 
Ellison  offered  her ;  but  Booth  expressed  some  reluc- 
tance. "  Upon  my  word,  my  dear,"  said  he,  with  a 
smile,  "  this  behaviour  of  ours  puts  me  in  mind  of  the 
common  conduct  of  beggars  ;  who,  whenever  they  re- 
ceive a  favour,  are  sure  to  send  other  objects  to  the 
same  fountain  of  charity.  Don't  we,  my  dear,  repay 
our  obligations  to  my  lord  in  the  same  manner,  by  send- 
ing our  children  a  begging  to  him  V 

"  Oh,  beastly  !"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison  :  "  how  could  such 
a  thought  enter  your  brains  1  I  protest,  madam,  1  begin 
to  grow  ashamed  of  this  husband  of  yours.  How  can 
you  have  so  vulgar  a  way  of  thinking  1  Begging  in- 
deed !  the  poor  little  dear  things  a  begging  !  if  my  lord 
was  capable  of  such  a  thought,  though  he  was  my  own 
brother  instead  of  my  cousin,  I  should  scorn  him  too 
much  ever  to  enter  his  doors."  "  Oh,  dear  madam," 
13 


202  THE   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

answered  Amelia,  "  you  take  Mr.  Booth  too  seriously, 
when  he  was  only  in  jest ;  and  the  children  shall  wait 
upon  you  whenever  you  please." 

Though  Booth  had  been  a  little  more  in  earnest  than 
Amelia  had  represented  him,  and  was  not,  perhaps,  quite 
so  much  in  the  wrong  as  he  was  considered  by  Mrs. 
Ellison,  yet,  seeing  there  were  two  to  one  against  him, 
he  wisely  thought  proper  to  recede,  and  let  his  simile 
go  off  with  that  air  of  a  jest  which  his  wife  had  given  it. 

Mrs.  ElHson,  however,  could  not  let  it  pass  without 
paying  some  compliments  to  Amelia's  understanding, 
nor  without  some  obscure  reflections  upon  Booth,  with 
whom  she  was  more  offended  than  the  matter  required. 
She  was,  indeed,  a  woman  of  most  profuse  generosi4;y, 
and  could  not  bear  a  thought  which  she  deemed  vulgar 
or  sneaking.  She  afterward  launched  forth  the  most 
profuse  encomiums  of  his  lordship's  liberality  ;  and  con- 
cluded the  evening  with  some  instances  which  he  had 
given  of  that  virtue,  which,  if  not  the  noblest,  is,  per- 
haps, one  of  the  most  useful  to  society,  with  which 
great  and  rich  men  can  be  endowed. 

The  next  morning  early.  Sergeant  Atkinson  came  to 
wait  on  Lieutenant  Booth,  and  desired  to  speak  with  his 
honour  in  private  ;  upon  which,  the  lieutenant  and  ser- 
geant took  a  walk  together  in  the  park.  Booth  expected 
every  minute  when  the  sergeant  would  open  his  mouth, 
under  which  expectation  he  continued  until  he  came  to 
the  end  of  the  Mall,  and  so  he  might  have  continued  till 
he  came  to  the  end  of  the  world ;  for,  though  several 
words  stood  at  the  end  of  the  sergeant's  lips,  there  they 
were  likely  to  remain  for  ever.  He  was,  indeed,  in  the 
condition  of  a  miser»  whom  a  charitable  impulse  has 
impelled  to  draw  a  few  pence  to  the  edge  of  his  pocket, 
where  they  are  altogether  as  secure  as  if  they  were  in 
the  bottom  ;  for,  as  the  one  has  not  the  heart  to  part 
with  a  farthing,  so  neither  had  the  other  the  heart  to 
speak  a  word. 

Booth  at  length,  wondering  that  the  sergeant  did  not 
speak,  asked  him  what  his  business  was  ;  when  the 
latter,  with  a  stammering  voice,  began  the  following 
apology :  "  I  hope,  sir,  your  honour  will  not  be  angry, 
nor  take  anything  amiss  of  me  :  I  do  assure  you,  it  was 
not  of  my  seeking  ;  nay,  I  dare  not  proceed  in  a  matter 
without  first  asking  your  leave.  Indeed,  if  I  had  taken 
any  liberties  from  the  goodness  you  have  been  pleased 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  203 

to  show  me,  1  should  look  upon  myself  as  one  of  the 
most  worthless  and  despicable  of  wretches  ;  but  nothing 
is  farther  from  my  thoughts.  I  know  the  distance  that 
is  between  us ;  and  because  your  honour  has  been  so 
kind  and  good  as  to  treat  me  with  more  familiarity  than 
any  other  officer  ever  did,  if  I  had  been  base  enough  to 
take  any  freedoms,  or  to  encroach  upon  your  honour's 
goodness,  I  should  deserve  to  be  whipped  through  the 
regiment.  1  hope,  therefore,  sir,  you  will  not  suspect 
me  of  any  such  attempt." 

"  What  can  all  this  mean,  Atkinson  I"  cries  Booth  : 
"  what  mighty  matter  would  you  introduce  with  all  this 
previous  apology  V 

"  I  am  almost  ashamed  and  afraid  to  mention  it,"  an- 
swered the  sergeant ;  "  and  yet  I  am  sure  your  honour 
will  believe  what  1  have  said,  and  not  think  anything 
owing  to  my  own  presumption  ;  and,  at  the  same  time, 
I  have  no  reason  to  think  you  would  do  anything  to  spoil 
my  fortune  in  an  honest  way,  when  it  is  dropped  into 
my  lap  without  my  own  seeking ;  for,  may  1  perish,  if 
it  is  not  all  the  lady's  own  goodness  ;  and  I  hope  in 
heaven,  with  your  honour's  leave,  I  shall  live  to  make 
her  amends  for  it."  In  a  word,  that  we  may  not  detain 
the  reader's  curiosity  quite  so  long  as  he  did  Booth's,  he 
acquainted  that  gentleman  that  he  had  an  offer  of  mar- 
riage from  a  lady  of  his  acquaintance,  to  whose  com- 
pany he  had  introduced  him,  and  desired  his  permission 
to  accept  of  it. 

Booth  must  have  been  very  dull,  indeed,  if,  after  what 
the  sergeant  had  said,  and  after  what  he  had  heard  Mrs. 
Ellison  say,  he  had  wanted  any  information  concerning 
the  lady.  He  answered  him  briskly  and  cheerfully,  that 
he  had  his  free  consent  to  marry  any  woman  whatever; 
*'  and  the  greater  and  richer  she  is,"  added  he,  "  the 
more  I  shall  be  pleased  with  the  match.  I  don't  in- 
quire who  the  lady  is,"  said  he,  smiling  ;  "  but  I  hope 
she  will  make  as  good  a  wife,  as,  I  am  convinced,  her 
husband  will  deserve." 

"  Your  honour  has  been  always  too  good  to  me,"  cries 
Atkinson  :  "  but  this  I  promise  you,  1  will  do  all  in  my 
power  to  merit  the  kindness  she  is  pleased  to  show  me. 
I  will  be  bold  to  say,  she  will  marry  an  honest  man, 
though  he  is  but  a  poor  one  ;  and  she  shall  never  want 
anything  which  I  can  give  her  or  do  for  her,  while  my 
name  is  Joseph  Atkinson." 


204  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  And  so  her  name  is  a  secret,  Joe,  is  it  "f"  cries 
Booth. 

"  Why,  sir,"  answered  the  sergeant,  "  I  hope  your 
honour  will  n(U  insist  upon  knowinar  that,  as  I  think  it 
would  be  dishonourable  in  me  U)  mention  it." 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  Booth:  "I  am  the  farthest  in 
the  world  from  any  such  desire.  I  know  you  better 
than  to  imagine  you  would  disclose  the  name  of  the  fair 
lady."  Booth  then  shook  Atkinson  heartily  by  the  hand, 
and  assured  him  earnestly  of  the  joy  he  had  in  his  good 
fortune  ;  for  which  the  good  sergeant  failed  not  of  making 
all  proper  acknowledgments.  After  which  they  de- 
parted, and  Booth  returned  home. 

As  Mrs.  Ellison  opened  the  door,  Booth  hastily  rushed 
by  ;  for  he  had  the  utmost  difficulty  to  prevent  laughing 
in  her  face.  He  ran  directly  up  stairs,  and,  throwing 
himself  into  a  chair,  discharged  such  a  fit  of  laughter, 
as  greatly  surprised,  and  at  first  almost  frightened  his 
wife. 

Amelia,  it  will  be  supposed,  presently  inquired  into 
the  cause  of  this  phenomenon,  with  which  Booth,  as 
soon  as  he  was  able,  (for  that  was  not  within  a  few 
minutes.)  acquainted  her.  The  news  did  not  aftect  her 
in  the  same  manner  as  it  had  affected  her  husband.  On 
the  contrary,  she  cried,  "  I  protest  I  cannot  guess  what 
makes  you  see  it  in  so  ridiculous  a  light.  I  really  think 
Mrs.  Ellison  has  chosen  very  well.  1  am  convinced  Joe 
will  make  her  one  of  the  best  of  husbands;  and  in  my 
opinion  that  is  the  greatest  blessing  a  woman  can  be 
possessed  of." 

However,  when  Mrs.  Ellison  came  into  her  room  a 
little  while  afterward  to  fetch  the  children,  Amelia  be- 
came of  a  more  risible  disposition  ;  especially  when  the 
former,  turning  to  Booth,  who  was  then  present,  said, 
"So,  captain,  my  janty  sergeant  was  very  early  here 
this  morning :  I  scolded  my  maid  heartily  for  letting  him 
wait  so  long  in  the  entry  like  a  lakcey,  when  she  might 
have  shown  him  into  my  inner  apartment:"  at  which 
words  Booth  burst  into  a  very  loud  laugh  ;  and  Amelia 
herself  could  no  more  prevent  laughing  than  she  could 
blushing. 

"  Heyday  !"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison  ;  "  what  have  I  said  to 
cause  all  this  mirth  V  and  at  the  same  time  blushed,  and 
looked  very  silly,  as  is  always  the  case  with  persons  who 
suspect  themselves  to  be  the  objects  of  laughter,  without 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  205 

absolutely  taking  what  it  is  which  makes  them  ridicu- 
lous. 

Booth  still  continued  laughing;  but  Ameha,  compo- 
sing her  muscles,  said,  "  I  ask  your  pardon,  dear  Mrs. 
Ellison  ;  but  Mr.  Booth  has  been  in  a  strange  giggling 
humour  all  this  morning,  and  I  really  think  it  is  infec- 
tious." 

*'  I  ask  your  pardon,  too,  madam,"  cries  Booth;  "but 
one  is  sometimes  unaccountably  foolish." 

"  Nay,  but  seriously,"  said  she,  "•  what  is  the  matter  .• 
Something  I  said  about  the  sergeant,  I  believe  ;  but  you 
may  laugh  as  much  as  you  please.  I  am  not  ashamed  of 
owning,  I  think  him  one  of  the  prettiest  fellows  I  ever 
saw  in  my  life  ;  and,  I  own,  I  scolded  my  maid  at  suffer- 
ing him  to  wait  in  my  entry ;  and  where  is  the  mighty 
ridiculous  matter,  pray  V 

"  None  at  all,"  answered  Booth  ;  "  and  I  hope  the  next 
time  he  will  be  ushered  into  your  inner  apartment." 

"  Why  should  he  not,  sir  V  replied  she  :  "  for  wher- 
ever he  is  ushered,  I  am  convinced  he  will  behave  him- 
self as  a  gentleman  should." 

Here  Amelia  put  an  end  to  the  discourse,  or  it  might 
have  proceeded  to  very  great  lengths ;  for  Booth  was  of 
a  waggish  inchnation,  and  Mrs.  Ellison  was  not  a  lady 
of  the  nicest  delicacy. 


Chapter  VIII. — The  heroic  behaviour  of  Colonel  Bath. 

Booth  went  this  morning  to  pay  a  second  visit  to  the 
colonel,  where  he  found  Colonel  James.  Both  the  colo- 
nel and  the  heutenant  appeared  a  little  shocked  at  their 
first  meeting  ;  but  matters  were  soon  cleared  up  ;  for  the 
former  presently  advanced  to  the  latter,  shook  him  heart- 
ily by  the  hand,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Booth,  I  am  ashamed  to 
see  you  ;  for  I  have  injured  you,  and  I  heartily  ask  your 
pardon.  I  am  now  perfectly  convinced  that  what  I 
hinted  to  my  brother,  and  which  1  find  had  like  to  have 
produced  such  fatal  consequences,  was  entirely  ground- 
less. If  you  will  be  contented  with  my  asking  your 
pardon,  and  spare  me  the  disagreeable  remembrance  of 
what  led  me  into  my  error,  I  shall  esteem  it  as  the  high- 
est obligation." 

Booth  answered,  "  As  to  what  regards  yourself,  my 
18 


206  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

dear  colonel,  I  am  abundantly  satisfied :  but,  as  I  am 
convinced  some  rascal  has  been  my  enemy  with  you  in 
the  cruellest  manner,  I  hope  you  will  not  deny  me  the 
opportunity  of  kicking  him  through  the  world." 

"By  all  the  dignity  of  man,"  cries  Colonel  Bath,  "  the 
boy  speaks  with  "spirit,  and  his  request  is  reasonable." 

Colonel  James  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  whis- 
pered Booth,  that  he  would  give  him  all  the  satisfaction 
imaginable  concerning  the  whole  afiair  when  they  were 
alone  together;  upon  which  Booth  addressing  himself 
to  Colonel  Bath,  the  discourse  turned  on  other  matters 
during  the  remainder  of  the  visit,  which  was  but  short ; 
and  then  both  went  away  together,  leaving  Colonel  Bath 
as  well  as  it  was  possible  to  expect,  more  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  Booth  than  of  Colonel  James,  who  would  not 
have  been  displeased  if  his  wound  had  been  more  dan- 
gerous ;  for  he  had  grown  somewhat  weary  of  a  dispo- 
sition that  he  rather  called  captious  than  heroic,  and 
which,  as  he  every  day  more  and  more  hated  his  wife, 
he  apprehended  might  some  time  or  other  give  him  some 
trouble;  for  Bath  was  the  most  affectionate  of  brothers, 
and  had  often  sworn,  in  the  presence  of  James,  that  he 
would  eat  any  man  alive  who  should  use  his  sister  ill. 

Colonel  Bath  was  well  satisfied  that  his  brother  and 
the  heutenant  were  gone  out  with  a  design  of  tilting, 
from  which  he  offered  not  a  syllable  to  dissuade  them, 
as  he  was  convinced  it  was  right,  and  that  Booth  could 
not  in  honour  take,  nor  the  colonel  give,  any  less  satis- 
faction. When  they  had  been  gone  Iherefore  about  half 
an  hour,  he  rang  his  bell  to  inquire  if  there  was  any  news 
of  his  brother ;  a  question  which  he  repeated  every  ten 
minutes  for  the  space  of  two  hours,  when,  having 
heard  nothing  of  him,  he  began  to  conclude  that  both 
were  killed  on  the  spot. 

While  he  w^as  in  this  state  of  anxiety,  his  sister  came 
to  see  him  ;  for,  notwithstanding  his  desire  of  keep- 
ing it  a  secret,  the  duel  had  blazed  all  over  the  town. 
After  receiving  some  kind  congratulations  on  his  safety, 
and  some  unkind  hints  concerning  the  warmth  of  his 
temper,  the  colonel  asked  her  when  she  had  seen  her 
husband:  she  answered,  not  that  morning.  He  then 
communicated  to  her  his  suspicion  :  told  her  he  was 
convinced  his  brother  had  drawn  his  sword  that  day; 
and  that,  as  neither  of  them  had  heard  anything  from 
him,  he  began  to  apprehend  the  worst  that  could  happen. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  207 

Neither  Miss  Bellamy  nor  Mrs.  Gibber  were  ever  in  a 
greater  consternation  on  the  stage,  than  now  appeared 
in  the  countenance  of  Mrs.  James.  "  Good  Heavens ! 
brother,"  cries  she,  "  what  do  you  tell  me  1  you  have 
frightened  me  to  death.  Let  your  man  get  me  a  glass 
of  water  immediately,  if  you  have  not  a  mind  to  see  me 
die  before  your  face.  When,  where,  how  was  this  quar- 
rel ?  why  did  you  not  prevent  it,  if  you  knew  of  it  1  is  it 
not  enough  to  be  every  day  tormenting  me  with  hazard- 
ing your  own  hfe ;  but  must  j^ou  bring  the  life  of  one 
who  you  know  must  be,  and  ought  to  be,  so  much  the 
dearest  of  all  to  me,  into  danger  ]  Take  your  sword, 
brother,  take  your  sword,  and  plunge  it  into  my  bosom  ; 
it  would  be  kinder  of  you  than  to  fill  it  with  such  dreads 
and  terrors."  Here  she  swallowed  the  glass  of  water; 
and  then  threw  herself  back  in  her  chair,  as  if  she  had 
intended  to  faint  away. 

Perhaps,  if  she  had  so,  the  colonel  would  have  lent  her 
no  assistance;  for  she  had  hurt  him  more  than  by  ten 
thousand  stabs.  He  sat  erect  in  his  chair,  with  his  eye- 
brows knit,  his  forehead  wrinkled,  his  eyes  flashing  fire, 
his  teeth  grating  against  each  other,  and  breathing  hor- 
ror all  around  him.  In  this  posture  he  sat  for  some 
time  silent,  casting  disdainful  looks  at  his  sister.  At 
last,  his  voice  found  its  way  through  a  passion  which 
had  almost  choked  him  ;  and  he  cried  out,  "  Sister,  what 
have  I  done  to  deserve  the  opinion  you  express  of  me  ? 
which  of  my  actions  has  made  you  conclude  that  I  am 
a  rascal  and  a  coward?  look  at  that  poor  sword,  which 
never  woman  yet  saw  but  in  its  sheath  ;  what  has  that 
done  to  merit  your  desire  that  it  should  be  contaminated 
with  the  blood  of  a  woman  ?" 

"  Alas !  brother,"  cried  she,  "  I  know  not  what  you 
say;  you  are  desirous,  I  believe,  to  terrify  me  out  of  the 
little  senses  I  have  left.  What  can  I  have  said,  in  the 
agonies  of  grief  into  which  you  threw  me,  to  deserve 
this  passion  ]" 

"  What  have  you  said  V  answered  the  colonel :  "  you 
have  said  that  which,  if  a  man  had  spoken,  nay,  d — n 
me,  if  he  had  but  hinted  that  he  durst  even  think,  I  would 
have  made  him  eat  my  sword,  by  all  the  dignity  of  man  ; 
I  would  have  crumbled  his  soul  into  powder.  But  I  con- 
sider that  the  words  were  spoken  by  a  woman,  and  I  am 
calm  again.  Consider,  my  dear,  that  you  are  my  sister, 
and  behave  yourself  with  more  spirit.    I  have  only  men- 


208  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

tioned  to  you  my  surmise.  It  may  not  have  happened 
as  I  suspect ;  but  let  what  will  have  happened,  you 
will  have  the  comfort  that  your  husband  has  behaved 
himself  with  becoming  dignity,  and  lies  in  the  bed  of 
honour." 

"  Talk  not  to  me  of  such  comfort,"  replied  the  lady  : 
*'it  is  a  loss  I  cannot  survive.  But  why  do  I  sit  here 
lamenting  myself]  I  will  go  this  instant,  and  know  the 
worst  of  my  fate,  if  my  trembling  limbs  will  carry  me 
to  my  coach.  Good  morrow,  dear  brother;  whatever 
become  of  me,  I  am  glad  to  find  you  out  of  danger." 
The  colonel  paid  her  his  proper  compliments,  and  she 
then  left  the  room  ;  but  returned  instantly  back,  saying, 
"  Brother,  I  must  beg  the  favour  of  you  to  let  your  foot- 
man step  to  my  mantua-maker :  I  am  sure  it  is  a  miracle, 
in  my  present  distracted  condition,  how  it  came  into 
my  head."  The  footman  was  presently  summoned, 
and  Mrs.  James  delivered  him  his  message,  which  was 
to  countermand  the  orders  which  she  had  given  that 
very  morning,  to  make  her  up  a  new  suit  of  brocade. 
"  Heaven  knows,"  says  she,  "  now,  when  I  can  wear 
brocade,  or  whether  ever  I  shall  wear  it."  And  now, 
having  repeated  her  message  with  great  exactness,  lest 
there  should  be  any  mistake,  she  again  lamented  her 
wretched  situation,  and  then  departed,  leaving  the  colo- 
nel in  full  expectation  of  hearing  speedy  news  of  the 
fatal  issue  of  the  battle. 

But,  though  the  reader  should  entertain  the  same 
curiosity,  we  must  be  excused  from  satisfying  it,  till 
we  have  first  accounted  for  an  incident  which  we  have 
related  in  this  very  chapter,  and  which  we  think  de- 
serves some  solution ;  the  critic,  1  am  convinced,  al- 
ready is  apprized,  that  I  mean  the  friendly  behaviour  of 
James  to  Booth,  which,  from  what  we  have  before  re- 
corded, seemed  so  little  to  be  expected. 

It  must  be  remembered,  that  the  anger  which  the  for- 
mer of  these  gentlemen  had  conceived  against  the  latter 
arose  entirely  from  the-  false  account  given  by  Miss 
Matthews  of  Booth,  whom  that  lady  had  accused  to 
Colonel  James  of  having  as  basely  as  wickedly  traduced 
his  character. 

Now,  of  all  the  ministers  of  vengeance,  there  are  none 
with  whom  the  devil  deals  so  treacherously  as  with 
those  whom  he  employs  in  executing  the  mischievous 
purposes  of  an  angry  mistress ;  for  no  sooner  is  revenge 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  209 

executed  on  an  offending  lover,  than  it  is  sure  to  be  re- 
pented ;  and  all  the  anger,  which  before  raged  against 
the  beloved  object,  returns  with  double  fury  on  the  head 
of  his  assassin. 
^  Miss  Matthews,  therefore,  no  sooner  heard  that  Booth 
was  killed,  (for  so  was  the  report  at  first,)  and  by  a  colo- 
nel of  the  army,  than  she  immediately  concluded  it  to 
be  James.  She  was  extremely  shocked  with  the  news, 
and  her  heart  instantly  began  to  relent.  All  the  reasons 
on  which  she  had  founded  her  love  recurred  in  the 
strongest  and  liveliest  colours  to  her  mind,  and  all  the 
causes  of  her  hatred  sunk  down  and  disappeared ;  or  if 
the  least  remembrance  of  anything  which  had  disobliged 
her  remained,  her  heart  became  his  zealous  advocate, 
and  soon  satisfied  her  that  her  own  fates  were  more  to 
be  blamed  than  he  ;  and  that,  without  being  a  villain,  he 
could  have  acted  no  otherwise  than  he  had  done. 

In  this  temper  of  mind,  she  looked  on  herself  as  the 
murderer  of  an  innocent  man,  and  what  to  her  was 
much  worse,  of  the  man  she  had  loved,  and  still  did 
love,  with  all  the  violence  imaginable.  She  looked  on 
James  as  the  tool  with  which  she  had  done  this  murder ; 
and,  as  it  is  usual  for  people,  who  have  rashly  or  inad- 
vertently made  any  animate  or  inanimate  thing  the  in- 
strument of  mischief,  to  hate  the  innocent  means  by 
which  the  mischief  was  effected,  (for  this  is  a  subtle 
method  which  the  mind  invents  to  excuse  ourselves, 
the  last  objects  on  whom  we  would  willingly  wreak  our 
vengeance,)  so  Miss  Matthews  now  hated  and  cursed 
James  as  the  efficient  cause  of  that  act  which  she  her- 
self had  contrived  and  laboured  to  carry  into  execution. 

She  sat  down,  therefore,  in  a  furious  agitation,,  little 
short  of  madness,  and  wrote  the  following  letter  : — 

•'  I  hope  this  will  find  you  in  the  hands  of  justice,  for  the  murder 
of  one  of  the  best  friends  that  ever  man  was  blessed  with.  In  one 
sense,  indeed,  he  may  seem  to  have  deserved  his  fate,  by  choosing  a 
fool  for  a  friend  ;  for  who  but  a  fool  would  have  believed  what  the 
anger  and  rage  of  an  injured  woman  suggested  ?  a  story  so  improb- 
able, that  I  could  scarce  be  thought  in  earnest  when  I  mentioned  it. 

"  Know  then,  cruel  wretch,  that  poor  Booth  loved  you  of  all  men 
breathing;  and  was,  I  believe,  in  your  commendation,  guilty  of  as 
much  falsehood  as  I  was  in  what  I  told  you  concerning  him. 

"If  this  knowledge  makes  you  miserable,  it  is  no  more  than  you 
have  made  the  unhappy  F.  Matthews." 

18* 


210  THE   HISTORY   OF    AMELIA. 


Chapter  IX. — Being  the  last  chapter  of  the  fifth  book. 

We  shall  now  return  to  Colonel  James  and  Mr.  Boothj^ 
who  walked  together  from  Colonel  Bath's  lodging  witlP* 
much  more  peaceable  intentions  than  that  gentleman 
had  conjectured,  who  dreamed  of  nothing  but  swords 
and  guns,  and  implements  of  war. 

The  Birdcage  walk  in  the  Park  was  the  scene  ap- 
pointed by  James  for  unburdening  his  mind  :  thither 
they  came,  and  there  James  acquainted  Booth  with  all 
that  which  the  reader  knows  already,  and  gave  him  the 
letter  which  we  have  inserted  at  the  end  of  the  last 
chapter. 

Booth  expressed  great  astonishment  at  this  relation, 
not  without  venting  some  detestation  of  the  wickedness 
of  Miss  Matthews ;  upon  which  James  took  him  up, 
saying,  he  ought  not  to  speak  with  such  abhorrence  of 
faults  which  love  for  him  had  occasioned. 

"  Can  you  mention  love,  my  dear  colonel,"  cried 
Booth,  "  and  such  a  woman  in  the  same  breath  "?" 

"  Yes,  faith !  can  I,"  says  James  ;  "  for  the  devil  take 
me  if  I  know  a  more  lovely  woman  in  the  world." 
Here  he  began  to  describe  her  whole  person;  but  as  we 
cannot  insert  all  the  description,  so  we  shall  omit  it  all ; 
and  concluded  with  saying,  "  Curse  me  if  I  don't  think 
her  the  finest  creature  in  the  universe.  1  would  give 
half  my  estate,  Booth,  if  she  loved  me  as  well  as  she 
does  you :  though,  on  second  consideration,  I  believe  I 
should  repent  that  bargain ;  for  then,  verj''  possibly,  I 
should  not  care  a  farthing  for  her." 

*'  You  will  pardon  me,  dear  colonel,"  answered  Booth  ; 
"but  to  me  there  appears  somewhat  very  singular  in 
your  way  of  thinking.  Beauty  is  indeed  the  object  of 
liking,  great  qualities  of  admiration,  good  ones  of  esteem; 
but  the  devil  take  me,  if  I  think  anything  but  love  to  be 
the  object  of  love." 

"  Is  there  not  something  too  selfish,"  replied  James, 
"  in  that  opinion  1  but  without  considering  it  in  that 
light,  is  it  not  of  all  things  the  most  insipid  1  all  oil !  all 
sugar !  zounds  !  it  is  enough  to  cloy  the  sharp-set  ap- 
petite of  a  parson.  Acids  surely  are  the  most  likely  to 
quicken." 

"  I  do  not  love  reasoning  in  allegories,"  cries  Booth; 


THE    HISTORY   OF  AMELIA.  211 

*«  but  with  regard  to  love,  I  declare  I  never  found  any- 
thing cloying  in  it.  I  have  lived  almost  alone  with  my 
wife  near  three  years  together,  was  never  tired  with  her 
(company,  nor  ever  wished  for  any  other;  and,  I  am 
€pure,  I  never  tasted  any  of  the  acid  you  mention,  to 
Quicken  my  appetite." 

*'  This  is  all  very  extraordinary  and  romantic  to  me," 
answered  the  colonel:  "if  I  was  to  be  shut  up  three 
years  with  the  same  woman,  which  Heaven  forbid  !  noth- 
ing, I  think,  could  keep  me  alive,  but  a  temper  as  violent 
as  that  of  Miss  Matthews  :  as  to  love  it  would  make  me 
sick  to  death  in  the  twentieth  part  of  that  time.  If  I 
was  so  condemned,  let  me  see,  what  would  I  wish  the 
woman  to  be  ?  I  think  no  one  virtue  would  be  sufficient. 
With  the  spirit  of  a  tigress,  I  would  have  her  be  a  prude, 
a  scold,  a  scholar,  a  critic,  a  wit,  a  politician,  and  a  Ja- 
cobite ;  and  then,  perhaps,  eternal  opposition  would 
keep  up  our  spirits ;  and,  wishing  one  another  daily  at 
the  devil,  we  should  make  a  shift  to  drag  on  a  damnable 
state  of  life,  without  much  spleen  or  vapours." 

"  And  so  you  do  not  intend,"  cries  Booth,  *'  to  break 
with  this  woman  ?" 

"  Not  more  than  I  have  already,  if  I  can  help  it," 
answered  the  colonel. 

"  And  you  will  be  reconciled  to  her  V  said  Booth. 

"Yes,  faith!  will  I,  if  I  can,"  answered  the  colonel; 
"I  hope  you  have  no  objection." 

"  None,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Booth,  "  unless  on  your 
account." 

"  I  do  believe  you,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  and  yet,  let  me 
tell  you,  you  are  a  very  extraordinary  man,  not  to  desire 
me  to  quit  her  on  your  own  account.  Upon  my  soul,  I 
begin  to  pity  the  woman  who  has  placed  her  affection, 
perhaps,  on  the  only  man  in  England  of  your  age  who 
would  not  return  it.  But,  for  my  part,  I  promise  you,  I 
like  her  beyond  all  other  women  ;  and  while  that  is  the 
case,  my  boy,  if  her  mind  was  as  full  of  iniquity  as  Pan- 
dora's box  was  of  diseases,  I'd  hug  her  close  in  my  arms, 
and  only  take  as  much  care  as  possible  to  keep  the  lid 
down  for  fear  of  mischief.  But  come,  dear  Booth," 
said  he,  "  let  us  consider  your  affairs,  for  I  am  ashamed 
of  having  neglected  them  so  long ;  and  the  only  anger 
I  have  against  this  wench  is,  that  she  was  the  occasion 
of  it." 

Booth  then  acquainted  the  colonel  with  the  promises 


212  THE   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

he  had  received  from  the  noble  lord  :  upon  which  James 
shook  him  by  the  hand,  and  heartily  wished  him  joy, 
crying,  "  I  do  assure  you,  if  you  have  his  interest,  you 
will  need  no  other  :  I  did  not  know  you  was  acquainted 
with  him." 

To  which  Mr.  Booth  answered,  that  he  was  but  a  new 
acquaintance,  and  that  he  was  recommended  to  him  by 
a  lady. 

"  A  lady  !"  cries  the  colonel :  "  well,  1  don't  ask  her 
name.  You  are  a  happy  man,  Booth,  among-  the  wo- 
men ;  and  I  assure  you,  you  could  have  no  stronger  rec- 
ommendation. The  peer  loves  the  ladies,  I  believe,  as 
well  as  ever  Mark  Antony  did  ;  and  it  is  not  his  fault, 
if  he  has  not  spent  as  much  upon  them.  If  he  once 
fixes  his  eyes  on  a  woman,  he  will  stick  at  nothing  to 
get  her." 
"Ay,  indeed  !"  cries  Booth :  "  is  that  his  character  ?" 
"  Ay,  faith  !"  answered  the  colonel,  "  and  the  char- 
acter of  most  men  besides  him.  Few  of  them,  I  mean, 
will  stick  at  anything  beside  their  money.  Jusgu'  a  la 
bourse,  is  sometimes  the  boundary  of  love  as  well  as 
friendship :  and,  indeed,  I  never  knew  any  other  man 
part  with  his  money  so  very  freely  on  these  occasions. 
You  see,  dear  Booth,  the  confidence  I  have  in  your 
honour." 

"  I  hope,  indeed,  you  have,"  cries  Booth ;  "  but  I 
don't  see  what  instance  you  now  give  me  of  that  confi- 
dence." 

"  Have  not  I  shown  you,"  answ^ered  James,  "  where 
you  may  carry  your  goods  to  market  ?  I  can  assure 
you,  my  friend,  that  is  a  secret  I  would  not  impart  to 
every  man  in  your  situation,  and  all  circumstances  con- 
sidered." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  very  gravely,  and 
turning  as  pale  as  death,  "  you  should  entertain  a  thought 
of  this  kind ;  a  thought  which  has  almost  frozen  up  my 
blood.  I  am  unwilling  to  believe  there  are  such  villains 
in  the  world  ;  but  there  is  none  of  them  whom  I  should 
detest  half  so  much  as  myself,  if  my  own  mind  had  ever 
suggested  to  me  a  hint  of  that  kind.  I  have  tasted  of 
some  distresses  of  life,  and  I  know  not  to  what  greater 
I  may  be  driven ;  but  my  honour,  I  thank  Heaven,  is  in 
my  own  power ;  and  1  can  boldly  say  to  Fortune,  she 
shall  not  rob  me  of  it." 
"Have  I  not  expressed  that   confidence,  my  dear 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  213 

Booth  V  answered  the  colonel.  "  And  what  you  say 
now  well  justifies  my  opinion ;  for  I  do  agree  with  you, 
that,  considering  ali  things,  it  would  be  the  highest  in- 
stance of  dishonour." 

->>  "  Dishonour,  indeed !"  returned  Booth :  "  what !  to 
prostitute  my  wife  !  Can  I  think  there  is  such  a  wretch 
breathing?" 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  but  I  am  sure 
it  was  very  far  from  my  intention  to  insinuate  the  least 
hint  of  any  such  matter  to  you.  Nor  can  I  imagine  how 
you  yourself  could  conceive  such  a  thought.  The  goods 
I  meant  were  no  other  than  the  charming  person  of  Miss 
Matthews,  for  whom  I  am  convinced  my  lord  would  bid 
a  swinging  price  against  me," 

Booth''s  countenance  greatly  cleared  up  at  this  decla- 
ration, and  he  answered  with  a  smile,  that  he  hoped  he 
need  not  give  the  colonel  any  assurances  on  that  head. 
However,  though  he  was  satisfied  with  regard  to  the 
colonel's  suspicions,  yet  some  chimeras  now  arose  in 
his  brain,  which  gave  him  no  very  agreeable  sensations. 
What  these  were,  the  sagacious  reader  may  probably 
suspect;  but  if  he  should  not,  we  may,  perhaps,  have 
occasion  to  open  them  in  the  sequel.  Here  we  will 
put  an  end  to  this  dialogue,  and  to  the  fifth  book  of  this 
history. 


BOOK   VI. 

Chapter  I. — Panegyrics  on  beauty,  with  other  grave  matters. 

The  colonel  and  Booth  walked  together  to  the  latter's 
lodgings;  for,  as  it  was  not  that  day  in  the  week  in 
which  all  parts  of  the  town  are  indifferent,  Booth  could 
not  wait  on  the  colonel. 

When  they  arrived  in  Spring  Garden,  Booth,  to  his 
great  surprise,  found  no  one  at  home  but  the  maid.  In 
truth,  Amelia  had  accompanied  Mrs.  Ellison  and  her 
children  to  his  lordship's ;  for,  as  her  little  girl  showed 
a  great  unwiUingness  to  go  without  her,  the  fond  mother 
was  easily  persuaded  to  make  one  of  the  company. 

Booth  had  scarce  ushered  the  colonel  up  to  his  apart- 


214  THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA. 

ment,  when  a  servant  from  Mrs.  James  knocked  hastily 
at  the  door.  The  lady,  not  meeting  with  her  husband  at 
her  return  home,  began  to  despair  of  him,  and  performed 
everything  which  was  decent  on  the  occasion.  An 
apothecary  was  presently  called  with  hartshorn  and  sal 
volatile,  a  doctor  was  sent  for,  and  messengers  were 
despatched  every  way  ;  among  the  rest,  one  was  sent  tD 
inquire  at  the  lodging  of  his  supposed  antagonist. 

The  servant,  hearing  that  his  master  was  alive  and 
well  above  stairs,  ran  up  eagerly  to  acquaint  him  with 
the  dreadful  situation  in  which  he  left  his  miserable  lady 
at  home,  and  likewise  with  the  occasion  of  all  her  dis- 
tress,  saying,  that  his  lady  had  been  at  her  brother's, 
and  heard  there  that  his  honour  was  killed  in  a  duel  by 
Captain  Booth, 

The  colonel  smiled  at  this  account,  and  bid  the  ser- 
vant make  haste  back  to  contradict  it :  and  then,  turn- 
ing to  Booth,  he  said,  "  Was  there  ever  such  another 
fellow  as  this  brother  of  mine  1  I  thought  indeed  his  be- 
haviour was  somewhat  odd  at  the  time.  I  suppose  he 
overheard  me  whisper  that  I  would  give  you  satisfac- 
tion, and  thence  concluded  we  went  together  with  a 
design  of  tilting.  D — n  the  fellow!  I  begin  to  grow 
heartily  sick  of  him ;  and  wish  I  could  get  well  rid  of 
him  without  cutting  his  throat,  which  I  sometimes  ap^ 
prehend  he  will  insist  on  my  doing,  as  a  return  for  my 
getting  him  made  a  lieutenant  colonel." 

While  these  two  gentlemen  were  commenting  on  the 
character  of  the  third,  Amelia  and  her  company  re- 
turned, and  all  presently  came  up  stairs,  not  only  the 
children,  but  the  two  ladies,  laden  with  trinkets  as  if 
they  had  been  come  from  a  fair.  Amelia,  who  had 
been  highly  delighted  all  the  morning  with  the  excessive 
pleasure  which  her  children  enjoyed,  when  she  saw 
Colonel  James  with  her  husband,  and  perceived  the  most 
manifest  marks  of  that  reconciliation  which  she  knew 
had  been  so  long  and  so  earnestly  wished  by  Booth,  be- 
came so  transported  with  joy,  that  her  happiness  was 
scarce  capable  of  addition.  Exercise  had  painted  her 
face  with  vermilion ;  and  the  highest  good-humour  had 
so  sweetened  every  feature,  and  a  vast  flow  of  spirits 
had  so  lightened  up  her  bright  eyes,  that  she  was  all  a 
blaze  of  beauty.  vShe  seemed,  indeed,  as  Milton  sub- 
limely describes  Eve, 


THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA.  215 

"  Adorn'd 
With  what  all  earth  or  heaven  could  bestow 
To  make  her  amiable  :" 

Again,— 

"  Grace  was  in  all  her  steps,  heaven  in  her  eye, 
In  every  gesture  dignity  and  love  :" 

Or,  as  Waller  sweetly,  though  less  sublimely  sings  : — 

"  Sweetness,  truth,  and  every  grace. 

Which  time  and  use  are  wont  to  teach, 
The  eye  may  in  a  moment  reach, 
And  read  distmctly  in  her  face." 

Or,  to  mention  one  poet  more,  and  him  of  all  the  sweet- 
est, she  seemed  to  be  the  very  person  of  whom  Suck- 
ling wrote  the  following  lines,  where,  speaking  of  Cupid, 
he  says — 

"  All  his  lovely  looks,  his  pleasing  fires  ; 

All  his  sweet  motions,  all  his  taking  smiles  ; 
All  that  awakes,  all  that  inflames  desires ; 

All  that  sweetly  commands,  all  that  beguiles  ; — 
He  does  into  one  pair  of  eyes  convey. 

And  there  begs  leave  that  he  himself  may  stay." 

Such  was  Amelia  at  this  time  when  she  entered  the 
room ;  and,  having  paid  her  respects  to  the  colonel,  she 
went  up  to  her  husband,  and  cried,  "  Oh,  my  dear ! 
never  were  any  creatures  so  happy  as  your  little  things 
have  been  this  whole  morning;  and  all  owing  to  my 
lord's  goodness :  sure  never  was  anything  so  good-na- 
tured and  so  generous  !"  She  then  made  the  children 
produce  their  presents,  the  value  of  which  amounted  to  a 
pretty  large  sum ;  for  there  was  a  gold  watch  among 
the  trinkets  that  cost  above  twenty  guineas. 

Instead  of  discovering  so  much  satisfaction  on  this 
occasion  as  Ameha  expected,  Booth  very  gravely  an- 
swered, "  And  pray,  my  dear,  how  are  we  to  repay  all 
these  obhgations  to  his  lordship  V  "  How  can  you  ask 
so  strange  a  question  ]"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison :  "  how  little 
do  you  know  of  the  soul  of  generosity,  (for  sure  my  cousin 
deserves  that  name,)  when  you  call  a  few  little  trinkets 
given  to  children  an  obligation !"  "  Indeed,  my  dear," 
cries  Amelia,  "  I  would  have  stopped  his  hand  if  it  had 
been  possible ;  nay,  I  was  forced,  at  last,  absolutely  to 
refuse,  or  I  believe  he  would  have  laid  a  hundred  pound 
out  on  the  children ;  for  I  never  saw  any  one  so  fond  of 
children,  which  convinces  me  he  is  one  of  the  best  of 


i 


216  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

men ;  but  I  ask  your  pardon,  colonel,"  said  she,  turning 
to  him  :  "  I  should  not  entertain  you  with  these  subjects ; 
yet  I  know  you  have  goodness  enough  to  excuse  the 
folly  of  a  mother." 

The  colonel  made  a  very  low  assenting  bow;  and 
soon  after  they  all  sat  down  to  a  small  repast ;  for  the 
colonel  had  promised  Booth  to  dine  with  him  when  they 
first  came  home  together;  and  what  he  had  since  heard 
from  his  own  house,  gave  him  still  less  inclination  than 
ever  to  repair  thither» 

But,  besides  both  these,  there  was  a  third  and  stronger 
inducement  to  him  to  pass  the  day  with  his  friend ;  and 
this  was  the  desire  of  passing  it  with  his  friend's  wife. 
When  the  colonel  had  first  seen  Amelia  in  France,  she 
was  but  just  recovered  from  a  consumptive  habit,  and 
looked  pale  and  thin:  besides,  his  engagements  with 
Miss  Bath  at  that  time  took  total  possession  of  him,  and 
guarded  his  heart  from  the  impressions  of  another  wo- 
man ;  and  when  he  had  dined  with  her  in  town,  the 
vexations  through  which  she  had  lately  passed  had 
somewhat  deadened  her  beauty:  besides,  he  was  then 
engaged,  as  we  have  seen,  in  a  very  warm  pursuit  of  a 
new  mistress,  but  now  he  had  no  such  impediment :  for 
though  the  reader  has  just  before  seen  his  warm  decla- 
ration of  a  passion  for  Miss  Matthews,  yet  it  may  be 
remembered  that  he  had  been  in  possession  of  her  for 
above  a  fortnight:  and  one  of  the  happy  properties  of 
this  kind  of  passion  is,  that  it  can  with  equal  violence 
love  half  a  dozen,  or  half  a  score  different  objects,  at 
one  and  the  same  time. 

But,  indeed,  such  were  the  charms  now  displayed  by 
Ameha,  of  which  we  endeavoured  above  to  draw  some 
faint  resemblance,  that  perhaps  no  other  beauty  could 
have  secured  him  from  their  influence  ;  and  here,  to 
confess  the  truth  in  his  favour,  however  the  grave,  or 
rather  the  hypocritical  part  of  mankind  may  censure  it, 
I  am  firmly  persuaded,  that  to  withdraw  admiration  from 
exquisite  beauty,  or  to  feel  no  delight  in  gazing  at  it,  is 
as  impossible  as  to  feel  no  warmth  from  the  most  scorch- 
ing rays  of  the  sun.  To  run  away  is  all  that  is  in  our 
power ;  and  in  the  former  case,  if  it  must  be  allowed  we 
have  the  power  of  running  away,  it  must  be  allowed  also 
that  it  requires  the  strongest  resolution  to  execute  it ; 
for  when,  as  Dryden  says — 

"  All  paradise  is  open'd  in  a  face^ 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  217 

how  natural  is  the  desire  of  going  thither!  and  how 
difficult  to  quit  the  lovely  prospect ! 

And  yet,  however  difficult  this  may  be,  my  young 
readers,  it  is  absolutely  necessary,  and  that  immediately 
too  :  flatter  not  yourself  that  fire  will  not  scorch  as  well 
as  warm  ;  and  the  longer  we  stay  within  its  reach,  the 
more  we  shall  burn.  The  admiration  of  a  beautiful 
women,  though  the  wife  of  our  dearest  friend,  may  at 
first  perhaps  be  innocent;  but  let  us  not  flatter  ourselves 
it  will  always  remain  so  :  desire  is  sure  to  succeed  ;  and 
wishes,  hopes,  designs,  with  a  long  train  of  mischiefs, 
tread  close  at  our  heels.  In  affairs  of  this  kind  we  may 
most  properly  apply  the  well-known  remark  of  nemo  re- 
pentefuit  turpissimus.  It  fares,  indeed,  with  us,  on  this 
occasion,  as  with  the  unwary  traveller  in  some  parts  of 
Arabia  the  Desert,  whom  the  treacherous  sands  imper- 
ceptibly betray  till  he  is  overwhelmed  and  lost.  In  both 
cases  the  only  safety  is  by  withdrawing  our  feet  the 
very  first  moment  we  perceive  them  sliding. 

This  digression  may  appear  impertinent  to  some 
readers :  we  could  not,  however,  avoid  the  opportunity 
of  offering  the  above  hints ;  since,  of  all  passions,  there 
is  none  against  which  we  should  so  strongly  fortify  our- 
selves as  this,  which  is  generally  called  love;  for  no 
other  lays  before  us,  especially  in  the  tumultuous  days 
of  youth,  such  sweet,  such  strong,  and  almost  irresisti- 
ble temptations ;  none  has  produced  in  private  life  such 
fatal  and  lamentable  tragedies :  and,  what  is  worst  of 
all,  there  is  none  to  whose  poison  and  infatuation  the 
best  of  minds  are  so  liable.  Ambition  scarce  ever  pro- 
duces any  evil,  but  when  it  reigns  in  cruel  and  savage 
bosoms ;  and  avarice  seldom  flourishes  at  all  but  in  the 
basest  and  poorest  soil.  Love,  on  the  contrary,  sprouts 
usually  up  in  the  richest  and  noblest  minds ;  but  there, 
unless  nicely  watched,  pruned,  and  cultivated,  and  care- 
fully kept  clear  of  those  vicious  weeds  which  are  too 
apt  to  surround  it,  it  branches  forth  into  wildness  and 
disorder,  produces  nothing  desirable,  but  chokes  up 
and  kills  whatever  is  good  and  noble  in  the  mind  where 
it  so  abounds.  In  short,  to  drop  the  allegory,  not  only 
tenderness  and  good-nature,  but  bravery,  generosity, 
and  every  virtue  are  often  made  the  instruments  of 
effecting  the  most  atrocious  purposes  of  this  all-subdu- 
ing tyrant. 

19  K 


218  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 


Chapter  II.— Which  will  not  appear,  we  presume,  unnatural  to  all 
married  readers. 

If  the  table  of  poor  Booth  afforded  but  an  indifferent 
repast  to  the  colonel's  hunger,  here  was  most  excellent 
entertainment  of  a  much  higher  kind.  The  colonel 
began  now  to  wonder  within  himself  at  his  not  having 
before  discovered  such  incomparable  beauty  and  excel- 
lence. This  wonder  was  indeed  so  natural,  that,  lest  it 
should  arise  likewise  in  the  reader,  we  thought  proper 
to  give  the  solution  of  it  in  the  preceding  chapter. 

During  the  first  two  hours,  the  colonel  scarce  ever 
had  his  eyes  off  from  Amelia ;  for  he  was  taken  by  sur- 
prise, and  his  heart  was  gone  before  he  suspected  him- 
self to  be  in  any  danger.  His  mind,  however,  no  sooner 
suggested  a  certain  secret  to  him,  than  it  suggested 
some  degree  of  prudence  to  him  at  the  same  time ;  and 
the  knowledge  that  he  had  thoughts  to  conceal,  and  the 
care  of  concealing  them,  had  birth  at  one  and  the  same 
instant.  During  the  residue  of  the  day,  therefore,  he 
grew  more  circumspect,  and  contented  himself  with 
now  and  then  stealing  a  look  by  chance ;  especially  as 
the  more  than  ordinary  gravity  of  Booth  made  him 
fear,  that  his  former  behaviour  had  betrayed  to  Booth's 
observation  the  great  and  sudden  liking  he  had  con- 
ceived for  his  wife,  even  before  he  had  observed  it  in 
himself. 

Amelia  continued  the  whole  day  in  the  highest  spirits 
and  highest  good-humour  imaginable,  never  once  re- 
marking that  appearance  of  discontent  in  her  husband, 
of  which  the  colonel  had  taken  notice  ;  so  much  more 
quick-sighted,  as  we  have  somewhere  else  hinted,  is 
guilt  than  innocence.  Whether  Booth  had  in  reality 
made  any  such  observations  on  the  colonel's  behaviour 
as  he  had  suspected,  w^e  will  not  undertake  to  determine  ; 
yet,  so  far  may  be  material  to  say,  as  we  can  M^ith 
sufficient  certainty,  that  the  change  in  Booth's  behaviour 
that  day,  from  what  was  usual  with  him,  was  remark- 
able enough.  None  of  his  former  vivacity  appeared  in 
his  conversation;  and  his  countenance  was  altered, 
from  being  the  picture  of  sweetness  and  good-humour, 
not  indeed  to  sourness  or  moroseness,  but  to  gravity 
and  melancholy. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  219 

Though  the  colonel's  suspicion  had  the  effect  which 
we  have  mentioned  on  his  behaviour,  yet  it  could  not 
persuade  him  to  depart.  In  short,  he  sat  in  his  chair, 
as  if  confined  to  it  by  enchantment,  stealing  looks  now 
and  then,  and  humouring  his  growing  passion,  without 
having  command  enough  over  his  limbs  to  carry  him 
out  of  the  room,  till  decency,  at  last,  forced  him  to  put 
an  end  to  his  preposterous  visit.  When  the  husband 
and  wife  were  left  alone  together,  the  latter  resumed 
the  subject  of  her  children,  and  gave  Booth  a  particular 
narrative  of  all  that  had  passed  at  his  lordship's,  which 
he,  though  something  had  certainly  disconcerted  him, 
affected  to  receive  with  all  the  pleasure  he  could ;  and 
this  affectation,  however  awkwardly  he  acted  his  part, 
passed  very  well  on  Amelia;  for  she  could  not  well  con- 
ceive a  displeasure,  of  which  she  had  not  the  least  hint 
of  any  cause  ;  and,  indeed,  at  a  time,  when,  from  his  rec- 
onciliation with  James,  she  imagined  her  husband  to  be 
entirely  and  perfectly  happy. 

The  greatest  part  of  that  night  Booth  passed  awake  ; 
and  if,  during  the  residue,  he  might  be  said  to  sleep,  he 
could  scarce  be  said  to  enjoy  repose:  his  eyes  were  no 
sooner  closed,  than  he  was  pursued  and  haunted  by  the 
most  frightful  and  terrifying  dreams,  which  threw  him 
into  so  restless  a  condition,  that  he  soon  disturbed  his 
Amelia,  and  greatly  alarmed  her  with  apprehensions 
that  he  had  been  seized  by  some  dreadful  disease,  though 
he  had  not  the  least  symptoms  of  a  fever,  by  extraordi- 
nary heat,  or  any  other  indication ;  but  was  rather  colder 
than  usual. 

As  Booth  assured  his  wife  that  he  was  very  well,  but 
found  no  inclination  to  sleep,  she  likewise  bid  adieu  to 
her  slumbers,  and  attempted  to  entertain  him  with  her 
conversation.  Upon  which,  his  lordship  occurred  as  the 
first  topic  ;  and  she  repeated  to  him  all  the  stories  which 
she  had  heard  from  Mrs.  Ellison,  of  the  peer's  goodness 
to  his  sister,  and  his  nephew  and  niece.  "  It  is  impos- 
sible, my  dear,"  says  she,  "  to  describe  their  fondness 
for  their  uncle,  which  is  to  me  an  incontestable  proof  of 
a  parent's  goodness."  In  this  manner  she  ran  on  for 
several  minutes,  concluding  at  last,  that  it  was  pity  so 
very  few  had  such  generous  minds  joined  to  immense 
fortunes. 

Booth,  instead  of  making  a  direct  answer  to  what 
Amelia  had  said,  cried  coldly,  *'  But  do  you  think,  my 
K2 


220  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

dear,  it  was  right  to  accept  all  those  expensive  toys 
which  the  children  brought  home  ?  and  I  ask  you  again, 
what  return  are  we  to  make  for  these  obligations  ?" 

"  Indeed,  my  dear,"  cries  Amelia,  "  you  see  this  mat- 
ter in  too  serious  a  light.  Though  I  am  the  last  person 
in  the  world  who  would  lessen  his  lordship's  goodness, 
(indeed,  I  shall  always  think  we  are  both  infinitely  obliged 
to  him,)  yet  sure  you  must  allow  the  expense  to  be 
a  mere  trifle  to  such  a  vast  fortune.  As  for  return,  his 
own  benevolence,  in  the  satisfaction  it  receives,  more 
than  repays  itself;  and  I  am  convinced  he  expects  no 
other." 

"  Very  well,  my  dear,"  cries  Booth  ;  "  j^ou  shall  have 
it  your  own  way  :  1  must  confess  I  never  yet  found  any 
reason  to  blame  your  discernment ;  and  perhaps  I  have 
been  in  the  wrong  to  give  myself  so  much  uneasiness  on 
this  account." 

"  Uneasiness,  child  !"  said  Ameha,  eagerly  ;  "  good 
Heavens  !  has  this  made  you  uneasy  ]" 

"  I  do  own  it  has,"  answered  Booth  ;  "  and  it  has  been 
the  only  cause  of  breaking  my  repose." 

"  Why  then  T  wish,"  cries  Amelia,  "  all  the  things  had 
been  at  the  devil  before  ever  the  children  had  seen  them  ; 
and  whatever  I  may  think  myself,  I  promise  you,  they 
shall  never  more  accept  the  value  of  a  farthing.  If, 
upon  this  occasion,  I  have  been  the  cause  of  your  unea- 
siness, you  will  do  me  the  justice  to  believe  that  I  was 
totally  innocent." 

At  these  words  Booth  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and, 
with  the  tenderest  embrace,  emphatically  repeating  the 
word  innocent,  cried,  "  Heaven  forbid  I  should  think 
otherwise  !  Oh,  thou  art  the  best  of  creatures  that  ever 
blessed  a  man  I" 

"  Well,  but,"  said  she,  smiling,  "  do  confess,  my  dear, 
the  truth;  I  promise  you  I  won't  blame  you  nor  dis- 
esteem  you  for  it:  but  is  not  pride  really  at  the  bottom 
of  this  fear  of  an  obligation  ]" 

"Perhaps  it  may,"  answered  he;  "or,  if  you  will, 
you  may  call  it  fear.  I  own  I  am  afraid  of  obligations, 
as  the  worst  kind  of  debts ;  for  I  have  generally  ob- 
served, those  who  confer  them  expect  to  be  repaid  ten 
thousand-fold." 

Here  ended  all  that  is  material  of  their  discourse ; 
and,  a  little  time  afterward,  they  both  fell  fast  asleep 
in  one  another's  arms ;  from  which  time  Booth  had  no 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  221 

more  restlessness,  nor  any  further  perturbation  in  his 
dreams. 

Their  repose,  however,  had  been  so  much  disturbed 
in  the  former  part  of  the  night,  that,  as  it  was  very  late 
before  they  enjoyed  that  sweet  sleep  I  have  just  men- 
tioned, they  lay  abed  the  next  day  till  noon,  when  they 
both  rose  witfi  the  utmost  cheerfulness ;  and,  while 
Amelia  bestirred  herself  in  the  affairs  of  her  family, 
Booth  went  to  visit  the  wounded  colonel. 

He  found  that  gentleman  still  proceeding  very  fast  in 
his  recovery,  with  which  he  was  more  pleased  than  he 
had  reason  to  be  with  his  reception;  for  the  colonel  re- 
ceived him  very  coldly  indeed ;  and  when  Booth  told 
him  he  had  received  perfect  satisfaction  from  his  bro- 
ther, Bath  erected  his  head,  and  answered,  with  a  sneer, 
"  Very  well,  sir,  if  you  think  these  matters  can  be  so 
made  up,  d — n  me,  if  it  is  any  business  of  mine.  My 
dignity  has  not  been  injured." 

"  No  one,  I  believe,"  cries  Booth,  "dare  injure  it." 

"You  believe  soV  said  the  colonel;  "I  think,  sir, 
you  might  be  assured  of  it;  but  this,  at  least,  you  may 
be  assured  of;  that  if  any  man  did,  I  would  tumble  him 
down  the  precipice  of  hell,  d — n  me,  that  you  may  be 
assured  of." 

As  Booth  found  the  colonel  in  this  disposition,  he  had 
no  great  inclination  to  lengthen  out  his  visit,  nor  did  the 
colonel  himself  seem  to  desire  it ;  so  he  soon  returned 
back  to  his  Amelia,  whom  he  found  performing  the 
office  of  a  cook,  with  as  much  pleasure  as  a  fine  lady 
generally  enjoys  in  dressing  herself  out  for  a  ball. 


Chapter  III.— In  which  the  history  looks  a  little  backward. 

Before  we  proceed  farther  in  our  history,  we  shall 
recount  a  short  scene  to  our  reader  which  passed  be- 
tween Amelia  and  Mrs.  EUison,  while  Booth  was  on  his 
visit  to  Colonel  Bath.  We  have  already  observed  that 
Amelia  had  conceived  an  extraordinary  affection  for 
Mrs.  Bennet,  which  had  still  increased  every  time  she 
saw  her ;  she  thought  she  discovered  something  won- 
derfully good  and  gentle  in  her  countenance  and  dis- 
position, and  was  very  desirous  of  knowing  her  whole 
history. 
19* 


222  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

She  had  a  very  short  interview  with  that  lady  this 
morning  in  Mrs.  Ellison's  apartment.  As  soon,  there- 
fore, as  Mrs.  Bennet  was  gone,  Amelia  acquainted  Mrs. 
Ellison  with  the  good  opinion  she  had  conceived  of  her 
friend,  and  likewise  with  her  curiosity  to  know  her 
story ;  "  for  there  must  be  something  uncommonly 
good,"  said  she,  "  in  one  who  can  so  truly  mourn  for  a 
husband  above  three  years  after  his  death." 

"  Oh,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  to  be  sure  the  world  must 
allow  her  to  have  been  one  of  the  best  of  wives  :  and 
indeed,  upon  the  whole,  she  is  a  good  sort  of  woman ; 
and  what  I  like  her  the  best  for,  is  a  strong  resemblance 
that  she  bears  to  yourself  in  the  form  of  her  person, 
and  still  more  in  her  voice.  But,  for  my  own  part,  I 
know  nothing  remarkable  in  her  fortune,  unless  what  I 
have  told  you,  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  clergy- 
man, had  httle  or  no  fortune,  and  married  a  poor  parson 
for  love,  who  left  her  in  the  utmost  distress.  If  you 
please,  I  will  show  you  a  letter  which  she  wrote  to 
me  at  that  time,  though  I  insist  upon  your  promise 
never  to  mention  it  to  her ;  indeed,  you  will  be  the  first 
person  I  ever  showed  it  to."  She  then  opened  the 
escritoire,  and,  taking  out  the  letter,  delivered  it  to 
Amelia,  saying,  "  There,  madam,  is,  I  believe,  as  fine  a 
picture  of  distress  as  can  well  be  drawn." 

"  Dear  Madam 
"  As  I  have  no  other  friend  on  earth  but  yourself,  I  hope  you  will 
pardon  my  writing  to  you  at  this  season ;  though  I  do  not  know  that 
you  can  relieve  my  distresses  ;  or,  if  you  can,  have  1  any  pretence 

to  expect  that  you  should.     My  poor,  dear — oh  heavens  !   my 

lies  dead  in  the  house  ;  and,  after  I  had  procured  sufficient  to  bury 
him,  a  set  of  ruffians  have  entered  my  house,  seized  all  1  have,  have 
seized  his  dear,  dear  corpse,  and  threaten  to  deny  its  burial.  For 
Heaven's  sake,  send  me,  iit  least,  some  advice  ;  little  Tommy  stands 
now  by  me  crying  for  bread,  which  I  have  not  to  give  him.  1  can 
say  no  more,  than  that  I  am  your  most  distressed,  humble  servant, 

^  _         "M.  Bennet."   ; 

Amelia  read  the  letter  over  twice,  and  then  returning 
it,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  asked  how  the  poor  creature 
could  possibly  get  through  such  distress. 

"You  may  depend  upon  it,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Elli- 
son, "  the  moment  I  read  this  account,  I  posted  away 
immediately  to  the  lady.  As  to  the  seizing  of  the  body, 
that  1  found  was  a  mere  bugbear ;  but  all  the  rest  was 
literally  true.    I  sent  immediately  for  the  same  gentle- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  223 

man  that  I  recommended  to  Mr.  Booth ;  left  the  care  of 
burying:  the  corpse  to  him,  and  brought  my  friend  and 
her  Httle  boy  immediately  away  to  my  own  house, 
where  she  remained  some  months  in  the  most  miserable 
condition.  I  then  prevailed  with  her  to  retire  into  the 
country,  and  procured  her  a  lodging  with  a  friend  at 
St.  Edmundsbury,  the  air  and  gayety  of  which  place,  by 
degrees,  recovered  her;  and  she  returned  in  about  a 
twelvemonth  to  town,  as  well,  I  think,  as  she  is  at 
present." 

"  I  am  almost  afraid  to  ask,"  cries  Amelia  ;  "  and  yet 
I  long  methinks  to  know  what  is  become  of  the  poor 
little  boy." 

"  He  has  been  dead,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  a  little  more 
than  half  a  year  ;  and  the  mother  lamented  him  at  first 
almost  as  much  as  she  did  her  husband ;  but  I  found  it 
indeed  rather  an  easier  matter  to  comfort  her,  though  I 
sat  up  with  her  near  a  fortnight  upon  the  latter  occa- 
sion." 

"  You  are  a  good  creature,"  said  Amelia,  "  and  I  love 
you  dearly." 

"  Alas !  madam,"  she  cries,  "  what  could  I  have  done, 
if  it  had  not  been  for  the  goodness  of  that  best  of  men, 
my  noble  cousin  1  His  lordship  no  sooner  heard  of  the 
widow's  distress  from  me,  than  he  immediately  settled 
one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year  upon  her  during 
her  life." 

"  Well !  how  noble,  how  generous  was  that !"  said 
Amelia :  "  I  declare  I  begin  to  love  your  cousin,  Mrs. 
Ellison." 

"  And  I  declare,  if  you  do,"  answered  she,  "  there  is 
no  love  lost:  I  verily  believe,  if  you  had  heard  what 
1  heard  him  say  yesterday  behind  your  back — " 

"  Why,  what  did  he  say,  Mrs.  Ellison  V  cries  Amelia. 
"  He  said,"  answered  the  other,  "  that  you  were  the 
finest  woman  his  eyes  ever  beheld  :  ah  !  it  is  in  vain 
to  wish,  and  yet  I  cannot  help  wishing  too.  Oh,  Mrs. 
Booth !  if  you  had  been  a  single  woman,  I  firmly  be- 
lieve I  could  have  made  you  the  happiest  in  the  world ; 
and  I  sincerely  think  I  never  saw  a  woman  who  de- 
served it  more." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  madam,"  cries  Amelia,  "  for 
your  good  opinion  ;  but  I  really  look  on  myself  as  the 
happiest  woman  in  the  world.  Our  circumstances,  it 
is  true,  might  have  been  a  little  more  fortunate ;  but, 


224  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

oh,  my  dear  Mrs.  Ellison !  what  fortune  can  be  put  in 
the  balance  with  such  a  husband  as  mine  ?" 

"I  am  afraid,  dear  madam,"  answered  Mrs.  Ellison, 
"  you  would  not  hold  the  scale  fairly.  I  acknowledge, 
indeed,  Mr.  Booth  is  a  very  pretty  gentleman ;  Heaven 
forbid  I  should  endeavour  to  lessen  him  in  your  opin- 
ion ;  yet,  if  I  was  to  be  brought  to  confession,  1  could 
not  help  saying,  I  see  where  the  superiority  lies,  and 
that  the  men  have  more  reason  to  envy  Mr.  Booth, 
than  the  women  have  to  envy  his  lady." 

"  Nay,  I  will  not  bear  this,"  replied  Amelia :  "  you 
will  forfeit  all  my  love,  if  you  have  the  least  disrespect- 
ful opinion  of  my  husband.  You  do  not  know  him, 
Mrs.  Ellison :  he  is  the  best,  the  kindest,  the  worthiest 
of  all  his  sex.  I  have  observed,  indeed,  once  or  twice 
before,  that  you  have  taken  some  dislike  to  him,  I  can- 
not conceive  for  what  reason.  If  he  has  said  or  done 
anything  to  disoblige  you,  I  am  sure  I  can  justly  acquit 
him  of  design.  His  extreme  vivacity  makes  him  some- 
times a  little  too  heedless  ;  but  I  am  convinced,  a  more 
innocent  heart,  or  one  more  void  of  offence,  was  never 
in  a  human  bosom." 

"  Nay,  if  you  grow  serious,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  I 
have  done.  How  is  it  possible  you  should  suspect  I 
had  taken  any  dislike  to  a  man,  to  whom  I  have  always 
shown  so  perfect  a  regard  ]  but  to  say  I  think  him,  or 
almost  any  other  man  in  the  world,  worthy  of  yourself, 
is  not  within  my  power  with  truth.  And,  since  you 
force  the  confession  from  me,  I  declare  I  think  such 
beauty,  such  sense,  and  such  goodness  united,  might  as- 
pire, without  vanity,  to  the  arms  of  any  monarch  in  Eu- 
rope." 

"  Alas !  my  dear  Mrs.  Ellison,"  answered  Amelia,  "  do 
you  think  happiness  and  a  crown  so  closely  united? 
how  many  miserable  women  have  lain  in  the  arms  of 
kings !  Indeed,  Mrs.  Ellison,  if  I  had  all  the  merit  you 
compliment  me  with,  I  should  think  it  fully  rewarded 
with  such  a  man,  as,  I  thank  Heaven,  has  fallen  to  my 
lot ;  not  would  I,  upon  my  soul,  exchange  that  lot  with 
any  queen  in  the  universe." 

"  Well,  there  are  enough  of  our  sex,"  said  Mrs.  Elli- 
son, "  to  keep  you  in  countenance  ;  but  I  shall  never  for- 
get the  beginning  of  a  &ong  of  Mr.  Congreve's,  that  my 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  225 

husband  was  so  fond  of,  that  he  was  always  singing 
it: — 

•  Love's  but  a  frailty  of  the  mind, 
When  'tis  not  with  ambition  join'd.' 

Love,  without  interest,  makes  but  an  unsavoury  dish, 
in  my  opinion." 

"And  pray,  how  long  has  this  been  your  opinion  1" 
said  Amelia,  smiling. 

"Ever  since  I  was  born,"  answered  Mrs.  Ellison;  "at 
least,  ever  since  I  can  remember." 

"  And  have  you  never,"  said  Amelia,  "  deviated  from 
this  generous  way  of  thinking !" 

"Never  once,"  answered  the  other,  "in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Ellison  !  Mrs.  Ellison  !"  cries  Amelia, "  why 
do  we  ever  blame  those  who  are  disingenuous  in  con- 
fessing their  faults,  when  we  are  so  often  ashamed  to 
own  ourselves  in  the  right  ]  Some  women  now  in  my 
situation  would  be  angry  that  you  had  not  made  confi- 
dants of  them ;  but  I  never  desire  to  know  more  of 
the  secrets  of  others  than  they  are  pleased  to  intrust 
me  with.  You  must  believe,  however,  that  I  should  not 
have  given  you  these  hints  of  my  knowing  all,  if  I  had 
disapproved  of  your  choice :  on  the  contrary,  I  assure 
you  1  highly  approve  it.  The  gentility  he  wants,  it  will 
be  easily  in  your  power  to  procure  for  him  ;  and  as  for  his 
good  qualities,  I  will  myself  be  bound  for  them :  and,  I 
make  not  the  least  doubt,  as  you  have  owned  to  me  your- 
self that  you  have  placed  your  affections  on  him,  you  will 
be  one  of  the  happiest  women  in  the  world." 

"  Upon  my  honour,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  very  gravely, 
"  I  do  not  understand  one  word  of  what  you  mean." 

"  Upon  my  honour,  you  astonish  me,"  said  Amelia  ; 
"  but  I  have  done." 

"  Nay,  then,"  said  the  other,  "  I  insist  upon  knowing 
what  you  mean." 

"  Why,  what  can  I  mean,"  answered  Amelia,  "  but 
your  marriage  with  Sergeant  Atkinson?" 

"With  Sergeant  Atkinson!"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  ea- 
gerly ;  "  my  marriage  with  a  sergeant !" 

"  Well,  with  Mr.  Atkinson  then — Captain  Atkinson, 
if  you  please  ;  for  so  I  hope  to  see  him." 

"  And  have  you  really  no  better  opinion  of  me,"  said 
Mrs.  Ellison,  "  than  to  imagine  me  capable  of  such  con- 
K3 


226  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

descension  ?  What  have  I  done,  dear  Mrs.  Booth,  to 
deserve  so  low  a  place  in  your  esteem  1  I  find,  indeed, 
as  Solomon  says,  women  ought  to  watch  the  door  of 
their  lips.  How  little  did  I  imagine,  that  a  little  harm- 
less freedom  in  discourse  could  persuade  any  one  that  I 
could  entertam  a  serious  intention  of  disgracing  my 
family !  for  of  a  very  good  family  am  I  come,  I  assure 
you,  madam,  though  1  now  let  lodgings.  Few  of  my 
lodgers,  I  believe,  ever  came  of  a  better." 

"  If  1  have  offended  you,  madam,"  said  Amelia,  "  I 
am  very  sorry,  and  ask  your  pardon ;  but  besides  what 
I  heard  from  yourself,  Mr.  Booth  told  me — " 

"  Oh  yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Ellison ;  *'  Mr.  Booth,  I 
know,  is  a  very  good  friend  of  mine.  Indeed,  I  know 
you  better  than  to  think  it  could  be  your  own  suspicion. 
I  am  very  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Booth,  truly." 

"  Nay,"  cries  Amelia,  "  the  sergeant  himself  is  in 
fault ;  for  Mr.  Booth,  I  am  positive,  only  repeated  what 
he  had  from  him." 

"Impudent  coxcomb!"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison:  "I  shall 
know  how  to  keep  such  fellov/s  at  a  proper  distance  for 
the  future.  I  will  tell  you,  dear  madam,  all  that  hap- 
pened. When  I  rose  in  the  morning,  I  found  the  fellow 
waiting  in  the  entry ;  and,  as  you  had  expressed  some 
regard  for  him  as  your  foster  brother,  (nay,  he  is  a  very 
genteel  fellow,  that  I  must  own,)  I  scolded  my  maid  for 
not  showing  him  into  my  little  back  room  ;  and  I  then 
asked  him  to  walk  into  the  parlour.  Could  I  have  ima- 
gined he  would  have  construed  such  little  civility  into 
an  encouragement  ?" 

"  Nay,  I  will  have  justice  done  to  my  poor  brother  too," 
said  Amelia:  "I  myself  have  seen  you  give  him  much 
greater  encouragement  than  that." 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  have,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison :  "  I  have 
been  always  too  unguarded  in  my  speech,  and  cannot 
answer  for  all  I  have  said."  She  then  began  to  change 
her  note,  and  with  an  affected  laugh  turned  all  into  ridi- 
cule ;  and  soon  afterward  the  two  ladies  separated,  both 
in  apparent  good-humour;  and  Amelia  went  about  those 
domestic  offices,  in  which  Mr.  Booth  found  her  engaged 
at  the  end  of  the  preceding  chapter. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  327 


Chapter  IV. — Containing  a  very  extraordinary  incident. 

In  the  afternoon,  Mr.  Booth,  with  Amelia  and  her 
children,  went  to  refresh  themselves  in  the  Park.  The 
conversation  now  turned  on  what  passed  in  the  morn- 
ing with  Mrs.  Ellison ;  the  latter  part  of  the  dialogue,  I 
mean,  recorded  in  the  last  chapter.  Amelia  told  her 
husband,  that  Mrs.  Ellison  so  strongly  denied  all  inten- 
tions to  marry  the  sergeant,  that  she  had  convinced  her 
the  poor  fellow  was  under  an  error,  and  had  mistaken  a 
little  too  much  levity  for  serious  encouragement ;  and 
concluded,  by  desiring  Booth  not  to  jest  with  her  any 
more  on  that  subject. 

Booth  burst  into  a  laugh  at  what  his  wife  said.  "  My 
dear  creature,"  said  he,  "  how  easy  is  thy  honesty  and 
simplicity  to  be  imposed  on  !  how  little  dost  thou  guess 
at  the  art  and  falsehood  of  women  !  I  knew  a  young 
lady,  who,  against  her  father's  consent,  was  married  to 
a  brother  officer  of  mine  ;  and  as  I  often  used  to  walk 
with  her,  (for  I  knew  her  father  intimately  well,)  she 
would  of  her  own  accord  take  frequent  occasions  to  rid- 
icule and  vilify  her  husband,  (for  so  he  was  at  the  time,) 
and  expressed  great  wonder  and  indignation  at  the  re- 
port which  she  allowed  to  prevail,  that  she  should  con- 
descend ever  to  look  at  such  a  fellow  with  any  other 
design  than  of  laughing  at  and  despising  him.  The 
marriage  afterward  became  publicly  owned,  and  the 
lady  was  reputably  brought  to  bed  ;  since  which  I  have 
often  seen  her ;  nor  has  she  ever  appeared  to  be  in  the 
least  ashamed  of  what  she  had  formerly  said,  though, 
indeed,  I  believe  she  hates  me  heartily  for  having  heard 
it." 

"  But  for  what  reason,"  cries  Amelia,  "  should  she 
deny  a  fact,  when  she  must  be  so  certain  of  our  discov- 
ering it,  and  that  immediately  V 

"  I  cannot  answer  what  end  she  may  propose,"  said 
Booth:  "sometimes  one  would  be  almost  persuaded 
that  there  was  a  pleasure  in  lying  itself.  But  this  I  am 
certain,  that  I  would  believe  the  honest  sergeant  on  his 
bare  word  sooner  than  I  would  fifty  Mrs.  Ellisons  on 
oath.  I  am  convinced  he  would  not  have  said  what  he 
did  to  me,  without  the  strongest  encouragement ;  and  I 
think,  after  what  we  have  been  both  witnesses  to,  it  re- 


228  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

quires  no  great  confidence  in  his  veracity  to  give  him 
an  unlimited  credit  with  regard  to  the  lady's  behaviour." 

To  this  AmeUa  made  no  reply;  and  they  discoursed 
of  other  matters  during  the  remainder  of  a  very  pleasant 
walk. 

When  they  returned  home,  Amelia  was  surprised  to 
find  an  appearance  of  disorder  in  her  apartment :  several 
of  the  trinkets  which  his  lordship  had  given  the  children 
lay  about  the  room  ;  and  a  suit  of  her  own  clothes, 
which  she  had  left  in  her  drawers,  was  now  displayed 
upon  the  bed. 

She  immediately  summoned  her  little  girl  up  stairs, 
who,  as  she  plainly  perceived  the  moment  she  came  up 
with  a  candle,  had  half  cried  her  eyes  out ;  for  though 
the  girl  had  opened  the  door  to  them,  as  it  was  almost 
dark,  she  had  not  taken  any  notice  of  this  phenomenon 
in  her  countenance. 

The  girl  now  fell  down  upon  her  knees,  and  cried, 
"  For  Heaven's  sake,  madam,  do  not  be  angry  with  me. 
Indeed,  I  was  left  alone  in  the  house  ;  and  hearing  some- 
body knock  at  the  door,  I  opened  it,  I  am  sure  thinking 
no  harm.  I  did  not  know  but  it  might  have  been  you, 
or  my  master,  or  Madam  EUison ;  and  immediately  as  I 
did,  the  rogue  burst  in  and  ran  directly  up  stairs,  and 
what  he  has  robbed  you  of  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  am  sure 
I  could  not  help  it,  for  he  was  a  great  swinging  man, 
with  a  pistol  in  each  hand  ;  and  if  I  had  dared  to  call 
out,  to  be  sure  he  would  have  killed  me.  I  am  sure  I 
was  never  in  such  a  fright  in  my  born  days,  whereof  I 
am  hardly  come  to  myself  yet.  I  believe  he  is  some- 
where about  the  house  yet ;  for  I  never  saw  him  go 
out." 

Amelia  discovered  some  little  alarm  at  this  narrative, 
but  much  less  than  many  other  ladies  would  have  shown : 
fc-  fright  is,  I  believe,  sometimes  laid  hold  of  as  an  op- 
portunity of  disclosing  several  charms  pecuUar  to  that 
occasion,  and  which,  as  Mr.  Addison  says  of  certain 
virtues, 

"  Shun  the  day,  and  lie  conceal'd 
In  the  smooth  seasons,  and  the  calms  of  hfe." 

Booth,  having  opened  the  window,  and  summoned  in 
two  chairmen  to  his  assistance,  proceeded  to  search  the 
house  ;  but  all  to  no   purpose :  the  thief  was  flown, 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  229 

though  the  poor  girl,  in  her  state  of  terror,  had  not  seen 
him  escape. 

But  now  a  circumstance  appeared  which  greatly  sur- 
prised both  Booth  and  Amelia  ;  indeed,  I  believe  it  will 
have  the  same  effect  upon  the  reader ;  and  this  was,  that 
the  thief  had  taken  nothing  with  him.  He  had,  indeed, 
tumbled  over  all  Booth's  and  Amelia's  clothes,  and  the 
children's  toys ;  but  had  left  all  behind  him. 

Amelia  was  scarce  more  pleased  than  astonished  at 
this  discovery,  and  re-examined  the  girl,  assuring  her  of 
an  absolute  pardon  if  she  confessed  the  truth,  but  griev- 
ously threatening  her  if  she  was  found  guilty  of  the 
least  falsehood.  "  As  for  a  thief,  child,"  says  she,  "  that 
is  certainly  not  true  ;  you  have  had  somebody  with  you 
to  whom  you  have  been  showing  the  things ;  therefore, 
tell  me  plainly  who  it  was." 

The  girl  protested  in  the  most  solemn  manner  that 
she  knew  not  the  person  ;  but  as  to  some  circumstances, 
she  began  to  vary  a  little  from  her  first  account,  partic- 
ularly as  to  the  pistols  ;  concerning  which,  being  strictly 
examined  by  Booth,  she  at  last  cried,  "  To  be  sure,  sir, 
he  must  have  had  pistols  about  him."  And  instead  of 
persisting  in  his  having  rushed  in  upon  her,  she  now 
confessed  that  he  had  asked  at  the  door  for  her  master 
and  mistress  ;  and  that  at  his  desire  she  had  shown  him 
up  stairs,  where  he  at  first  said  he  would  stay  till  their 
return  home ;  "  But,  indeed,"  cried  she,  "  1  thought  no 
harm,  for  he  looked  like  a  gentlemanlike  sort  of  a  man ; 
and,  indeed,  so  I  thought  he  was  for  a  good  while, 
whereof  he  sat  down  and  behaved  himself  very  civilly, 
till  he  saw  some  of  master's  and  miss's  things  upon  the 
chest  of  drawers ;  whereof  he  cried,  '  Heyday  !  what's 
here  V  and  then  he  fell  to  tumbhng  about  the  things  like 
any  mad.  Then  I  thinks,  thinks  I  to  myself,  to  be  sure 
he  is  a  highwayman,  whereof  I  did  not  dare  to  speak  to 
him ;  for  I  knew  Madam  Ellison  and  her  maid  was  gone 
out,  and  what  could  such  a  poor  girl  as  I  do  against  a 
great  strong  man  1  and  besides,  thinks  I,  to  be  sure  he 
has  got  pistols  about  him,  though  I  cannot  indeed  (that 
1  will  not  do  for  the  world)  take  my  Bible  oath  that  I 
saw  any ;  yet  to  be  sure  he  would  have  soon  pulled  them 
out  and  shot  me  dead  if  I  had  ventured  to  have  said  any- 
thing to  offend  him." 

"  I  know  not  what  to  make  of  this,"  cries  Booth :  "  the 
poor  girl,  I  verily  believe,  speaks  to  the  best  of  her 
20 


230  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

knowledge.  A  thief  it  could  not  be,  for  he  has  not  taken 
the  least  thing ;  and  it  is  plain  he  had  the  girFs  watch  in 
his  hand.  If  it  had  been  a  baihff,  surely  he  would  have 
stayed  till  our  return.  I  can  conceive  no  other,  from 
the  girl's  account,  than  that  it  must  have  been  some 
madman." 

"  Oh,  good  sir,"  said  the  girl,  "now  you  mention  it,  if 
he  was  not  a  thief,  to  be  sure  he  must  have  been  a  mad- 
man ;  for  indeed  he  looked,  and  behaved  himself  too,  very 
much  like  a  madman  :  for  now  1  remember  it,  he  talked 
to  himself,  and  said  many  strange  kind  of  words  that  I 
did  not  understand.  Indeed,  he  looked  altogether  as  I 
have  seen  people  in  Bedlam.  Besides,  if  he  was  not  a 
madman,  w^hat  good  could  it  do  him  to  throw  the  things 
all  about  the  room  in  such  a  manner  1  and  he  said  some- 
thing too  about  my  master,  just  before  he  went  down 
stairs.  I  was  in  such  a  fright,  I  cannot  remember  par- 
ticularly ;  but  I  am  sure  they  were  very  ill  words  ;  he 
said  he  would  do  for  him,  I  am  sure  he  said  that ;  and 
other  wicked,  bad  words  too,  if  I  could  but  think  of 
them." 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  Booth,  "  this  is  the  most  prob- 
able conjecture  ;  but  still  I  am  puzzled  to  conceive  who 
it  should  be  ;  for  1  have  no  madman,  to  my  knowledge, 
of  my  acquaintance  ;  and  it  seems,  as  the  girl  says,  he 
asked  for  me."  He  then  turned  to  the  child,  and  asked 
her  if  she  was  certain  of  the  circumstance. 

The  poor  maid,  after  a  little  hesitation,  answered,  "  In- 
deed, sir,  I  cannot  be  very  positive  ;  for  the  fright  he 
threw  me  into  afterward  drove  everything  almost  out  of 
my  mind." 

"  Well,  w^hatever  he  was,"  cries  Amelia,  "  I  am  glad 
the  consequence  is  no  worse ;  but  let  this  be  a  warning 
to  you,  little  Betty,  and  teach  you  to  take  more  care  for 
the  future.  If  ever  you  should  be  left  alone  in  the  house 
again,  be  sure  to  let  no  person  in  without  first  looking 
out  at  the  window,  and  seeing  who  they  are.  I  prom- 
ised not  to  chide  you  any  more  on  this  occasion,  and  I 
will  keep  my  word  ;  but  it  is  very  plain  you  desired  this 
person  to  walk  up  into  our  apartment,  which  was  very 
wrong  in  our  absence." 

Betty  was  going  to  answer,  but  Amelia  would  not  let 
her,  saying,  "Don't  attempt  to  excuse  yourself;  fori 
mortally  hate  a  har,  and  can  forgive  any  fault  sooner 
than  falsehood." 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  231 

The  poor  girl  then  submitted  ;  and  now  Amelia,  with 
her  assistance,  began  to  replace  all  things  in  their  order; 
and  little  Emily,  hugging  her  watch  with  great  fondness, 
declared  she  would  never  part  with  it  any  more. 

Thus  ended  this  odd  adventure,  not  entirely  to  the 
satisfaction  of  Booth ;  for,  besides  his  curiosity,  which, 
when  thoroughly  roused,  is  a  very  troublesome  passion, 
he  had,  as  is,  I  believe,  usual  with  all  persons  in  his  cir- 
cumstances, several  doubts  and  apprehensions  of  he 
knew  not  what.  Indeed,  fear  is  never  more  uneasy 
than  when  it  does  not  certainly  know  its  object ;  for  on 
such  occasions  the  mind  is  ever  employed  in  raising  a 
thousand  bugbears  and  phantoms,  much  more  dreadful 
than  any  realities ;  and,  like  children  when  they  tell 
tales  of  hobgobhns,  seems  industrious  in  terrifying  it- 
self. 


Chapter  V. — Containing  some  matters  not  very  unnatural. 

Matters  were  scarce  sooner  reduced  into  order  and 
decency,  than  a  violent  knocking  was  heard  at  the  door; 
such  indeed  as  would  have  persuaded  any  one,  not  ac- 
customed to  the  sound,  that  the  madman  was  returned 
in  the  highest  spring-tide  of  his  fury. 

Instead,  however,  of  so  disagreeable  an  appearance,  a 
very  fine  lady  presently  came  into  the  room,  no  other, 
indeed,  than  Mrs.  James  herself;  for  she  was  resolved 
to  show  Amelia,  by  the  speedy  return  of  her  visit,  how 
unjust  all  her  accusations  had  been  of  any  failure  in  the 
duties  of  friendship  ;  she  had  moreover  another  reason 
to  accelerate  this  visit,  and  that  was  to  congratulate  her 
friend  on  the  event  of  the  duel  between  Colonel  Bath 
and  Mr.  Booth. 

The  lady  had  so  well  profited  by  Mrs.  Booth's  re- 
monstrance, that  she  had  now  no  more  of  that  stiffness 
and  formaUty  which  she  had  worn  on  a  former  occasion : 
on  the  contrary,  she  now  behaved  with  the  utmost  free- 
dom and  good-humour;  and  made  herself  so  very  agree- 
able, that  Amelia  was  highly  pleased  and  delighted  with 
her  company. 

An  incident  happened  during  this  visit,  that  may  ap- 
pear to  some  too  inconsiderable  in  itself  to  be  recorded ; 
and  yet,  as  it  certainly  produced  a  very  strong  conse- 


232  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

quence  in  the  mind  of  Mr.  Booth,  we  cannot  prevail  on 
ourselves  to  pass  it  by. 

Little  Emily,  who  was  present  in  the  room  while  Mrs. 
James  was  there,  as  she  stood  near  the  lady,  happened 
to  be  playing  with  her  watch,  which  she  was  so  greatly 
overjoyed  had  escaped  safe  from  the  madman.  Mrs. 
James,  who  expressed  great  fondness  for  the  child,  de- 
sired to  see  the  watch,  which  she  commended  as  the 
prettiest  of  the  kind  she  had  ever  seen. 

Amelia  caught  eager  hold  of  this  opportunity  to 
spread  the  praises  of  her  benefactor.  She  presently  ac- 
quainted Mrs.  James  with  the  donor's  name,  and  ran  on 
with  great  encomiums  on  his  lordship's  goodness,  and 
particularly  on  his  generosity ;  to  which  Mrs.  James 
answered,  "  Oh,  certainly,  madam,  his  lordship  has  uni- 
versally the  character  of  being  extremely  generous — 
where  he  likes." 

In  uttering  these  words,  she  laid  a  very  strong  em- 
phasis on  the  three  last  monosyllables,  accompanying 
them,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  very  sagacious  look,  a 
very  significant  leer,  and  a  flirt  with  her  fan. 

The  greatest  genius  the  world  has  ever  produced  ob- 
serves, in  one  of  his  most  excellent  plays,  that 

"  Trifles,  light  as  air. 
Are,  to  the  jealous,  confirmations  strong 
As  proofs  of  holy  writ." 

That  Mr.  Booth  began  to  be  possessed  by  this  worst 
of  fiends,  admits,  I  think,  no  longer  doubt;  for  at  this 
speech  of  Mrs.  James,  he  immediately  turned  pale,  and, 
from  a  high  degree  of  cheerfulness,  was  all  on  a  sudden 
struck  dumb,  so  that  he  spoke  not  another  word  till 
Mrs.  James  left  the  room. 

The  moment  that  lady  drove  from  the  door,  Mrs.  El- 
lison came  up  stairs.  She  entered  the  room  with  a 
laugh,  and  very  plentifully  rallied  both  Booth  and  Ameha 
concerning  the  madman,  of  which  she  had  received  a 
full  account  below  stairs ;  and  at  last  asked  Amelia  if 
she  could  not  guess  who  it  was  ;  but,  without  receiving 
an  answer,  went  on,  saying,  "  For  my  own  part,  I  fancy 
it  must  be  some  lover  of  yours;  some  person  that  has 
seen  you,  and  so  is  run  mad  with  love.  Indeed,  I 
should  not  wonder  if  all  mankind  were  to  do  the  same. 
La !  Mr.  Booth,  what  makes  you  grave  1  why,  you  are 
as  melancholy  as  if  you  had  been  robbed  in  earnest. 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  S33 

Upon  my  word,  though,  to  be  serious,  it  is  a  strange 
story ;  and,  as  the  girl  tells  it,  I  know  not  what  to  make 
of  it.  Perhaps  it  might  be  some  rogue  that  intended  to 
rob  the  house,  and  his  heart  failed  him  ;  yet  even  that 
would  be  very  extraordinary.  What,  did  you  lose 
nothing,  madam  1" 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  answered  Amelia  :  "  he  did  not  even 
take  the  child's  watch." 

"  Well,  captain,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  I  hope  you  will 
take  more  care  of  the  house  to-morrow ;  for  your  lady 
and  I  shall  leave  you  alone  to  the  care  of  it.  Here, 
madam,"  said  she,  "  here  is  a  present  from  my  lord  to 
us ;  here  are  two  tickets  for  the  masquerade  at  Rane- 
lagh.  You  will  be  so  charmed  with  it !  It  is  the  sweetest 
of  all  diversions." 

"  May  I  be  d — ned,  madam,"  cries  Booth,  "  if  my  wife 
shall  go  thither," 

Mrs.  Ellison  started  at  these  words,  and,  indeed,  so  did 
Amelia ;  for  they  were  spoken  with  great  vehemence. 
At  length,  the  former  cried  out,  with  an  air  of  astonish- 
ment, "  Not  let  your  lady  go  to  Ranelagh,  sir?" 

"  No,  madam,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  will  not  let  my  wife 
go  to  Ranelagh." 

"  You  surprise  me,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison.  "  Sure  you 
are  not  in  earnest  ?" 

"  Indeed,  madam,"  returned  he,  "  I  am  seriously  in 
earnest ;  and  what  is  more,  I  am  convinced  she  would, 
of  her  own  accord,  refuse  to  go." 

"Now,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison,  "you  are  to  an- 
swer for  yourself;  and  I  will  for  your  husband,  that,  if 
you  have  a  desire  to  go,  he  will  not  refuse  you." 

"  I  hope,  madam,"  answered  Amelia,  with  great 
gravity,  "  I  shall  never  desire  to  go  to  any  place  con- 
trary to  Mr.  Booth's  inclinations." 

*'  Did  ever  mortal  hear  the  hke  1"  said  Mrs.  Ellison  ; 
"you  are  enough  to  spoil  the  best  husband  in  the  uni- 
verse. Inclinations !  what,  is  a  woman  to  be  governed 
then  by  her  husband's  inclinations,  though  they  are 
never  so  unreasonable  ?" 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,"  said  Amelia  ;  "  I  will  not  sup- 
pose Mr.  Booth's  inclinations  ever  can  be  unreasonable. 
I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  offer  you  have 
made  me,  but  I  beg  you  will  not  mention  it  any  more ; 
for,  after  what  Mr.  Booth  has  declared,  if  Ranelagh  was 
a  heaven  upon  earth,  1  would  refuse  to  go  to  it." 
20* 


234  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  I  thank  you,  my  dear,"  cries  Booth ;  "  I  do  assure 
you,  you  oblige  me  beyond  my  power  of  expression  by 
what  you  say ;  but  I  will  endeavour  to  show  you,  both 
my  sensibility  of  such  goodness,  and  my  lasting  grati- 
tude for  it." 

"  And  pray,  sir,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  what  can  be 
your  objection  to  your  lady's  going  to  a  place  which  I 
will  venture  to  say  is  as  reputable  as  any  about  town, 
and  which  is  frequented  by  the  best  company?" 

"  Pardon  me,  good  Mrs.  Ellison,"  said  Booth :  "  as  my 
wife  is  so  good  to  acquiesce  without  knowing  my  rea- 
sons, I  am  not,  1  think,  obliged  to  assign  them  to  any 
other  person." 

"  Well,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  if  I  had  been  told  this, 
I  would  not  have  believed  it.  What,  refuse  your  lady 
an  innocent  diversion,  and  that  too  when  you  have  not 
the  pretence  to  say  it  would  cost  you  a  farthing  1" 

"  Why  will  you  say  any  more  on  this  subject,  dear 
madam]"  cries  Amelia:  "  all  diversions  are  to  me  mat- 
ters of  such  indifference,  that  the  bare  inclinations  of 
any  one,  for  whom  I  have  the  least  value,  would  at  all 
times  turn  the  balance  of  mine.  I  am  sure,  then,  after 
what  Mr.  Booth  has  said — " 

"  My  dear,"  cries  he,  taking  her  up  hastily,  "  I  sin- 
cerely ask  your  pardon;  I  spoke  inadvertently,  and  in  a 
passion :  I  never  once  thought  of  controlling  you,  nor 
ever  would.  Nay,  I  said  in  the  same  breath  you  would 
not  go;  and,  upon  my  honour,  I  meant  nothing  more." 

"  My  dear,"  said  she,  "  you  have  no  need  of  making 
any  apologj^ :  1  am  not  in  the  least  offended,  and  am 
convinced  you  will  never  deny  me  what  I  shall  desire." 

"  Try  him,  try  him,  madam,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison:  "I 
will  be  judged  by  all  the  women  in  ton-n,  if  it  is  possible 
for  a  wife  to  ask  her  husband  anything  more  reasonable. 
You  cannot  conceive  what  a  sweet,  charming,  elegant, 
delicious  place  it  is.  Paradise  itself  can  hardly  be  equal 
to  it." 

"  I  beg  you  will  excuse  me,  madam,"  said  Amelia ; 
"  nay,  I  entreat  you  will  ask  me  no  more  ;  for  be  as- 
sured I  must  and  will  refuse.  Do  let  me  desire  you  to 
give  the  ticket  to  poor  Mrs.  Bennet.  I  believe  it  would 
greatly  oblige  her." 

"Pardon  me,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison:  "if  you 
will  not  accept  of  it,  1  am  not  so  distressed  for  want  of 
company  as  to  go  to  such  a  public  place  with  all  sorts 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  235 

of  people,  neither.  I  am  always  very  glad  to  see  Mrs. 
Bennet  at  my  own  house,  because  I  look  upon  her  as  a 
very  good  sort  of  a  woman  ;  but  I  don't  choose  to  be 
seen  with  such  people  in  public  places." 

Amelia  expressed  some  little  indignation  at  this  last 
speech,  which  she  declared  to  be  entirely  beyond  her 
comprehension  ;  and  soon  after  Mrs.  Ellison,  finding  all 
her  efforts  to  prevail  on  Amelia  were  ineffectual,  took 
her  leave,  giving  Mr.  Booth  two  or  three  sarcastical 
words,  and  a  much  more  sarcastical  look  at  her  depar- 
ture. 


Chapter  VI, — A  scene,  in  which  some  ladies  will,  possibly,  think 
Amelia's  conduct  exceptionable. 

Booth  and  his  wife  being  left  alone,  a  solemn  silence 
prevailed  during  a  few  minutes.  At  last,  Amelia,  who 
though  a  good,  was  yet  a  human  creature,  said  to  her 
husband,  "  Pray,  my  dear,  do  inform  me  what  could 
put  you  into  so  great  a  passion  when  Mrs.  Ellison  first 
offered  me  the  ticket  for  this  masquerade?" 

"I  had  rather  you  would  not  ask  me,"  said  Booth: 
"  you  have  obliged  me  greatly  in  your  ready  acquies- 
cence with  my  desire ;  and  you  will  add  greatly  to  the 
obligation  by  not  inquiring  the  reason  of  it.  This  you 
may  depend  upon,  Amelia,  that  your  good  and  happiness 
are  the  great  objects  of  all  my  wishes,  and  the  end  I 
promise  in  all  my  actions.  This  view  alone  could  tempt 
me  to  refuse  you  anything,  or  to  conceal  anything  from 
you." 

*'  I  will  appeal  to  yourself,"  answered  she,  "whether 
this  be  not  using  me  too  much  hke  a  child,  and  whether 
I  can  possibly  help  being  a  little  offended  at  it." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  replied  he ;  "I  use  you  only  with 
the  tenderness  of  a  friend.  I  would  only  endeavour  to 
conceal  that  from  you,  which  I  think  would  give  you 
uneasiness  if  you  knew.  These  are  called  the  pious 
frauds  of  friendship." 

"  I  detest  all  fraud,"  says  she  ;  "  and  pious  is  too 
good  an  epithet  to  be  joined  to  so  odious  a  word.  You 
have  often,  you  know,  tried  these  frauds  with  no  better 
effect  than  to  tease  and  torment  me.  You  cannot  ima- 
gine, my  dear,  but  that  I  must  have  a  violent  desire  to 


236  THE    HISTORY  OF   AMELIA. 

know  the  reason  of  words,  which,  I  own,  I  never  ex- 
pected to  have  heard  ;  and  the  more  you  have  shown  a 
reluctance  to  tell  me,  the  more  eagerly  1  have  longed  to 
know.  Nor  can  this  be  called  a  vain  curiosity  ;  since  I 
seem  so  much  interested  in  this  affair.  If,  after  all  this, 
you  still  insist  on  keeping  the  secret,  I  will  convince 
you  I  am  not  ignorant  of  the  duty  of  a  wife,  by  my  obe- 
dience ;  but  I  cannot  help  telling  you,  at  the  same  time, 
you  will  make  me  one  of  the  most  miserable  of  women." 

"That  is,"  cries  he,  "in  other  words,  my  dear  Emily, 
to  say,  I  will  be  contented  without  the  secret ;  but  I  am 
resolved  to  know  it,  nevertheless." 

"  Nay,  if  you  say  so,"  cries  she,  "  I  am  convinced 
you  will  tell  me  :  positively,  dear  Billy,  1  must  and  will 
know." 

"  Why,  then,  positively,"  says  Booth,  "  I  will  tell 
you :  and  I  think  I  shall  then  show  you,  that  however 
well  you  may  know  the  duty  of  a  wife,  I  am  not  always 
able  to  behave  like  a  husband.  In  a  word,  then,  my 
dear,  the  secret  is  no  more  than  this ;  I  am  unwilling 
you  should  receive  any  more  presents  from  my  lord." 

"  Mercy  upon  me  !"  cried  she,  with  all  the  marks  of 
astonishment :  "  what !  a  masquerade  ticket !" 

"  Yes,  my  dear,"  cries  he  :  "  that  is,  perhaps,  the  very 
worst  and  most  dangerous  of  all :  few  men  make  pres- 
ents of  those  ticke'ts  to  ladies,  without  intending  to 
meet  them  at  the  place.  And  what  do  we  know  of  your 
companion  1  To  be  sincere  with  you,  I  have  not  liked 
her  behaviour  for  some  time.  What  might  be  the  con- 
sequence of  going  with  such  a  woman  to  such  a  place, 
to  meet  such  a  person,  I  tremble  to  think.  And  now, 
my  dear,  1  have  told  you  my  reason  of  refusing  her  offer 
with  some  little  vehemence,  and,  I  think,  I  need  explain 
myself  no  farther." 

"  You  need  not,  indeed,  sir,"  answered  she.  "  Good 
Heavens  !  did  I  ever  expect  to  hear  this  !  I  can  appeal 
to  Heaven ;  nay,  I  will  appeal  to  yourself,  Mr.  Booth,  if 
I  have  ever  done  anything  to  deserve  such  a  suspicion  : 
if  ever  any  action  of  mine,  nay,  if  ever  any  thought,  had 
stained  the  innocence  of  my  soul,  I  could  be  contented." 

"  How  cruelly  do  you  mistake  me  !"  said  Booth : 
"  what  suspicion  have  I  ever  shown  V 

"  Can  you  ask  it,"  answered  she,  "  after  what  you 
have  just  now  declared]" 

"  If  I  have  declared  any  suspicion  of  you,"  replied  he  ; 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  237 

"  or  if  ever  I  entertained  a  thought  leading  that  way, 
may  the  worst  of  evils  that  ever  afflicted  human  nature 
attend  me.  1  know  the  pure  innocence  of  that  tender 
bosom  ;  I  do  know  it,  my  lovely  angel,  and  adore  it. 
The  snares  which  might  be  laid  for  that  innocence  were 
alone  the  cause  of  my  apprehension.  I  feared  what  a 
wicked  and  voluptuous  man,  resolved  to  sacrifice  every- 
thing to  the  gratification  of  a  sensual  appetite  with  the 
most  delicious  repast,  might  attempt.  If  ever  I  injured 
the  unspotted  whitenessof  thy  virtue  in  my  imagination, 
may  hell — " 

"  Do  not  terrify  me,"  cries  she,  interrupting  him, 
*'with  such  imprecations.  Oh,  Mr.  Booth!  Mr.  Booth! 
you  must  well  know  that  a  woman's  virtue  is  always 
her  sufficient  guard.  No  husband,  without  suspecting 
that,  can  suspect  any  danger  from  those  snares  you 
mention :  and  why,  if  you  are  liable  to  take  such  things 
into  your  head,  may  not  your  suspicions  fall  on  me,  as 
well  as  on  any  other?  for  sure  nothing  was  ever  more 
unjust,  I  will  not  say  ungrateful,  than  the  suspicions 
which  you  have  bestowed  on  his  lordship.  1  do  sol- 
emnly declare,  in  all  the  times  I  have  seen  the  poor 
man,  he  has  never  once  offered  the  least  forwardness. 
His  behaviour  has  been  polite  indeed,  but  rather  re- 
markably distant  than  otherwise  ;  particularly  when  we 
played  at  cards  together.  I  don't  remember  he  spoke 
ten  words  to  me  all  the  evening ;  and  when  I  was  at  his 
house,  though  he  showed  the  greatest  fondness  imagin- 
able to  the  children,  he  took  so  little  notice  of  me,  that 
a  vain  woman  would  have  been  very  little  pleased  with 
him !  and  if  he  gave  them  many  presents,  he  never  of- 
fered me  one.  The  first,  indeed,  which  he  ever  offered 
me,  was  that  which  you,  in  that  kind  manner,  forced  me 
to  refuse." 

"  All  this  may  be  only  the  effect  of  art,"  said  Booth. 
"I  am  convinced  he  does, nay,  I  am  convinced  he  must 
like  you,  and  my  good  friend  James,  who  perfectly  well 
knows  the  world,  told  me,  that  his  lordship's  charac- 
ter was  that  of  the  most  profuse  in  his  pleasures  with 
women:  nay,  what  said  Mrs.  James  this  very  evening? 
*  His  lordship  is  extremely  generous — where  he  likes.'  I 
shall  never  forget  the  sneer  with  which  she  spoke  these 
last  words." 

"  I  am  convinced  they  injure  him,"  cries  Amelia.  "  As 
for  Mrs.  James,  she  was  always  given  to  be  censorious ; 


238  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

I  remarked  it  in  her  long  ago  as  her  greatest  fault: 
and  for  the  colonel,  1  believe  he  may  find  faults  enough 
of  this  kind  in  his  own  bosom,  without  searching  after 
them  among  his  neighbours.  I  am  sure  he  has  the 
most  impudent  look  of  all  the  men  I  know;  and  I  sol- 
emnly declare,  the  very  last  time  he  was  here,  he  put 
me  out  of  countenance  more  than  once." 

"  Colonel  James,"  answered  Booth,  "  may  have  his 
faults  very  probably.  I  do  not  look  upon  him  as  a  saint, 
nor  do  I  believe  he  desires  I  should  ;  but  what  interest 
could  he  have  in  abusing  this  lord's  character  to  me  ? 
or  why  should  I  question  his  truth,  when  he  assured  me 
that  my  lord  had  never  done  an  act  of  beneficence  in  his 
life,  but  for  the  sake  of  some  woman  whom  he  lusted 
after  ?" 

"  Then  I  myself  can  confute  him,"  replied  Amelia ; 
"for  besides  his  services  to  you,  which,  for  the  future, 
I  shall  wish  to  forget,  and  his  kindness  to  my  little 
babes,  how  inconsistent  is  the  character  which  James 
gives  of  him,  with  his  lordship's  behaviour  to  his  own 
nephew  and  niece,  whose  extreme  fondness  of  their 
uncle  sufficiently  proclaims  his  goodness  to  them  !  I 
need  not  mention  all  that  I  have  heard  from  Mrs.  Elli- 
son, every  word  of  which  I  believe ;  for  1  have  great 
reason  to  think,  notwithstanding  some  little  levity, 
which,  to  give  her  her  due,  she  sees  and  condemns  in 
herself,  she  is  a  very  good  sort  of  woman." 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  may  have  been  de- 
ceived, and  I  heartily  hope  I  am  so  ;  but  in  cases  of 
this  nature,  it  is  always  good  to  be  on  the  surest  side ; 
for,  as  Congreve  says : — 

'  The  wise  too  jealous  are  ;  fools  too  secure.'  " 

Here  Amelia  burst  into  tears,  upon  which  Booth  im- 
mediately caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  endeavoured  to 
comfort  her.  Passion,  however,  for  a  while  obstructed 
her  speech,  and  at  last  she  cried,  "  Oh,  Mr.  Booth,  can  I 
bear  to  hear  the  word  jealousy  from  your  mouth  ?" 

"  Why,  my  love,'''  said  Booth,  "  will  you  so  fatally 
misunderstand  my  meaning?  how  often  shall  I  protest 
that  it  is  not  of  you,  but  of  him  that  I  was  jealous  ]  If 
you  could  look  into  my  breast,  and  there  read  all  the 
most  secret  thoughts  of  my  heart,  you  would  not  see 
one  faint  idea  to  your  dishonour." 

"  1  don't  misunderstand  you,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  so 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  239 

much  as  I  am  afraid  you  misunderstand  yourself.  What 
is  it  you  fear  T  you  mention  not  force,  but  snares.  Is 
not  this  to  confess,  at  least,  that  you  have  some  doubt  of 
my  understanding  ]  Do  you  then  really  imagine  me  so 
weak  as  to  be  cheated  of  my  virtue  ]  am  I  to  be  de- 
ceived into  an  affection  for  a  man,  before  I  perceive  the 
least  inward  hint  of  my  danger  ?  No,  Mr.  Booth,  be- 
lieve me,  a  woman  must  be  a  fool  indeed,  who  can  have 
in  earnest  such  an  excuse  for  her  actions.  I  have  not, 
I  think,  any  very  high  opinion  of  my  judgment ;  but  so 
far  I  shall  rely  upon  it,  that  no  man  breathing  could 
have  any  such  designs  as  you  have  apprehended,  with- 
out my  immediately  seeing  them;  and  howl  should 
then  act,  I  hope  my  whole  conduct  to  you  has  suffi- 
ciently declared." 

*'  Well,  my  dear,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  beg  you  will  men- 
tion it  no  more  ;  if  possible,  forget  it.  I  hope,  nay,  1  be- 
lieve, I  have  been  in  the  wrong:  pray  forgive  me." 

"  1  will,  I  do  forgive  you,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  if  for- 
giveness be  a  proper  word  for  one  whom  you  have 
rather  made  miserable  than  angry ;  but  let  me  entreat 
you  to  banish  for  ever  all  such  suspicions  from  your 
mind.  I  hope  Mrs.  Ellison  has  not  discovered  the  real 
cause  of  your  passion;  but,  poor  woman,  if  she  had,  I 
am  convinced  it  would  go  no  farther.  Oh  Heavens  !  I 
would  not  for  the  world  it  should  reach  his  lordship's 
ears.  You  would  lose  the  best  friend  that  ever  man 
had.  Nay,  I  would  not  for  his  own  sake,  poor  man ! 
for  I  really  believe  it  would  affect  him  greatly ;  and  I 
must,  I  cannot  help  having  an  esteem  for  so  much  good- 
ness ;  an  esteem  which,  by  this  dear  hand,"  said  she, 
taking  Booth's  hand,  and  kissing  it,  "  no  man  alive  shall 
ever  obtain  by  making  love  to  me." 

Booth  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  tenderly  embraced 
her :  after  which,  the  reconciliation  soon  became  com- 
plete :  and  Booth,  in  the  contemplation  of  his  happiness, 
entirely  buried  all  his  jealous  thoughts. 


Chapter  VII.— A  chapter  in  which  there  is  much  learning. 

The  next  morning,  while  Booth  was  gone  to  take  his 
morning  walk,  Amelia  went  down  into  Mrs.  Ellison's 
apartment,  where,  though  she  was  received  with  great 


240  THE   HISTORY   OP   AMELIA. 

civility,  yet  she  found  that  lady  was  not  at  all  pleased 
with  Mr.  Booth;  and,  by  some  hints  which  dropped 
from  her  in  conversation,  Amelia  very  greatly  appre- 
hended that  Mrs.  Ellison  had  too  much  suspicion  of  her 
husband's  real  uneasiness :  for  that  lady  declared  very 
openly,  she  could  not  help  perceiving  what  sort  of  man 
Mr.  Booth  was ;  "  and  though  I  have  the  greatest  re- 
gard for  you,  madam,  in  the  world,"  said  she, "  yet  I 
think  myself  in  honour  obliged  not  to  impose  on  his 
lordship,  who,  I  know  very  well,  has  conceived  his 
greatest  liking  to  the  captain,  on  my  telling  him  that  he 
was  the  best  husband  in  the  world." 

Amelia's  fears  gave  her  much  disturbance,  and,  when 
her  husband  returned,  she  acquainted  him  with  them  ; 
upon  which  occasion,  as  it  was  natural,  she  resumed  a 
little  the  topic  of  their  former  discourse  ;  nor  could  she 
help  casting,  though  in  very  gentle  terms,  some  slight 
blame  on  Booth,  for  having  entertained  a  suspicion, 
which,  she  said,  might,  in  its  consequence,  very  possi- 
bly prove  their  ruin,  and  occasion  the  loss  of  his  lord- 
ship's friendship. 

Booth  became  highly  affected  with  what  his  wife  said, 
and  the  more,  as  he  had  just  received  a  note  from  Col- 
onel James,  informing  him  that  the  colonel  had  heard 
of  a  vacant  company  in  the  regiment  which  Booth  had 
mentioned  to  him,  and  that  he  had  been  with  his  lordship 
about  it,  who  had  promised  to  use  his  utmost  interest 
to  obtain  him  the  command. 

The  poor  man  now  expressed  the  utmost  concern  for 
his  yesterday's  behaviour  ;  said  he  believed  the  devil 
had  taken  possession  of  him ;  and  concluded  with  cry- 
ing out,  "  Sure  I  was  born,  my  dearest  creature,  to  be 
your  torment !" 

Amelia  no  sooner  saw  her  husband's  distress,  than 
she  instantly  forbore  whatever  might  seem  hkely  to 
aggravate  it,  and  applied  herself,  with  all  her  power,  to 
comfort  him.  "  If  you  will  give  me  leave  to  offer  my 
advice,  my  dearest  soul,"  said  she,  "  I  think  all  might 
yet  be  remedied.  I  think  you  know  me  too  well,  to 
suspect  that  the  desire  of  diversion  should  induce  me  to 
mention  what  I  am  now  going  to  propose  ;  and  in  that 
confidence,  I  will  ask  you  to  let  me  accept  my  lord's 
and  Mrs.  Ellison's  offer,  and  go  to  the  masquerade.  No 
matter  how  little  while  I  stay  there  :  if  you  desire  it,  I 
will  not  be  an  hour  from  you.    I  can  make  a  hundred 


THE   HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  241 

excuses  to  come  home,  or  tell  a  real  truth,  and  say,  I 
am  tired  of  the  place.  The  bare  going  will  cure  every- 
thing." 

Amelia  had  no  sooner  done  speaking,  than  Booth  im- 
mediately approved  her  advice,  and  readily  gave  his 
consent.  He  could  not,  however,  help  saying,  that  the 
shorter  her  stay  was  there,  the  more  agreeable  it  would 
be  to  him  ;  "  for  you  know,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "  I  would 
never  willingly  be  a  moment  out  of  your  sight." 

In  the  afternoon,  Amelia  sent  to  invite  Mrs.  Ellison 
to  a  dish  of  tea,  and  Booth  undertook  to  laugh  off  all 
that  had  passed  yesterday  ;  in  which  attempt  the  abun- 
dant good-humour  of  that  lady  gave  him  great  hopes  of 
success. 
Mrs.  Bennet  came  that  afternoon  to  make  a  visit,  and 
as  almost  an  hour  v 
entry  of  Mrs.  Ellison. 

Mr.  Booth  had  hitherto  rather  disliked  this  young  lady, 
and  had  wondered  at  the  pleasure  which  Amelia  de- 
clared she  took  in  her  company.  This  afternoon,  how- 
ever, he  changed  his  opinion,  and  liked  her  almost  as 
much  as  his  wife  had  done.  She  did,  indeed,  behave  at 
this  time  with  more  than  ordinary  gayety  ;  and  good-hu- 
mour gave  a  glow  to  her  countenance  that  set  off  her 
features,  which  were  very  pretty,  to  the  best  advantage, 
and  lessened  the  deadness  that  had  usually  appeared  in 
her  complexion. 

But,  if  Booth  was  now  pleased  with  Mrs.  Bennet, 
Amelia  was  still  more  pleased  with  her  than  ever :  for, 
when  their  discourse  turned  on  love,  Amelia  discovered 
that  her  new  friend  had  all  the  same  sentiments  on  that 
subject  with  herself.  In  the  course  of  their  conversa- 
tion. Booth  gave  Mrs.  Bennet  a  hint  of  wishing  her  a 
good  husband,  upon  which  both  the  ladies  declaimed 
against  second  marriages  with  equal  vehemence. 

Upon  this  occasion,  Booth  and  his  wife  discovered  a 
talent  in  their  visitant,  to  which  they  had  been  before 
entirely  strangers,  and  for  which  they  both  greatly  ad- 
mired her ;  and  this  was,  that  the  lady  was  a  good 
scholar,  in  which,  indeed,  she  had  the  advantage  of  poor 
Amelia,  whose  reading  was  confined  to  English  plays 
and  poetry ;  besides  which,  I  think,  she  had  conversed 
only  with  the  divinity  of  the  great  and  learned  Dr.  Bar- 
row, and  with  the  histories  of  the  excellent  Bishop 
Burnet. 

21  L 


242  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

Amelia  delivered  herself  on  the  subject  of  second 
marriages  with  much  eloquence  and  great  good  sense ; 
but  when  Mrs.  Bennet  came  to  give  her  opinion,  she 
spoke  in  the  following  manner:  "  I  shall  not  enter  into 
the  question  concerning  the  legality  of  bigamy:  our 
laws  certainly  allow  it,  and  so  1  think  does  our  religion. 
We  are  now  debating  only  on  the  decency  of  it ;  and  in 
this  light,  I  hold  myself  as  strenuous  an  advocate  against 
it,  as  any  Roman  matron  would  have  been  in  those  ages 
of  the  commonwealth  when  it  was  held  to  be  infamous. 
For  my  own  part,  how  great  a  paradox  soever  my  opin- 
ion may  seem,  I  solemnly  declare,  I  see  but  little  dif- 
ference in  having  two  husbands  at  one  time,  and  at  sev- 
eral times  ;  and  of  this  I  am  very  confident,  that  the 
same  degree  of  love  for  a  first  husband,  which  preserves 
a  woman  in  the  one  case,  will  preserve  her  in  the  other. 
There  is  one  argument,  which  I  scarce  know  how  to 
deliver  before  you,  sir ;  but — if  a  woman  has  lived  with 
her  first  husband  without  having  children,  I  think  it 
unpardonable  in  her  to  carry  barrenness  into  a  second 
family  :  on  the  contrary,  if  she  has  children  by  her  first 
husband,  to  give  them  a  second  father  is  still  more  un- 
pardonable." 

"But  suppose,  madam,"  cries  Booth,  interrupting  her, 
with  a  smile,  "  she  should  have  had  children  by  her  first 
husband,  and  have  lost  them." 

"  That  is  a  case,"  answered  she,  with  a  sigh,  "  which 
I  did  not  desire  to  think  of;  and  I  must  own  it  the  most 
favourable  light  in  which  a  second  marriage  can  be  seen. 
But  the  Scriptures,  as  Petrarch  observes,  rather  suffer 
them  than  commend  them  ;  and  St.  Jerome  speaks 
against  them  with  the  utmost  bitterness."  "  I  remem- 
ber," cries  Booth,  who  was  willing  either  to  show  his 
learning,  or  to  draw  out  the  lady's,  "  a  very  wise  law  of 
Charondas,  the  famous  lawgiver  of  Thurium,  by  which 
men,  who  married  a  second  time,  were  removed  from 
all  public  councils  ;  for  it  was  scarce  reasonable  to  sup- 
pose, that  he  who  was  so  great  a  fool  in  his  own  fam- 
ily, should  be  wise  in  public  affairs  :  and  though  second 
marriages  were  permitted  among  the  Romans,  yet  they 
were  at  the  same  time  discouraged  ;  and  those  Roman 
widows  who  refused  them  were  held  in  high  esteem, 
and  honoured  with  what  Valerius  Maximus  calls  the 
Corona  Pudicitise.     In  the  noble  family  of  Camilli, 


i 


THE  HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  243 

there  was  not,  in  many  ages,  a  single  instance  of  this, 
which  Martial  calls  adultery  : — 

'  Quae  toties  nubit,  non  nubit ;  adultera  lege  est.'  " 

"  True,  sir,"  says  Mrs.  Bennet ;  "  and  Virgil  calls  this 
a  violation  of  chastity,  and  makes  Dido  speak  of  it  with 
the  utmost  detestation  : — 

'  Sed  mihi  vel  tellus  optem  prius  ima  dehiscat, 
Vel  pater  omnipotens  adigat  me  fulmine  ad  umbras, 
Pallentes  umbras  Erebi,  noctemque  profundam, 
Ante,  Pudor,  quam  te  violo,  aut  tua  jura  resolvo. 
Ille  meos,  primus  qui  me  sibi  junxit,  amores 
Abstulit :  ille  habeat  secum,  servetque  sepulcro.'  " 

She  repeated  these  lines  with  so  strong  an  emphasis, 
that  she  almost  frightened  Amelia  out  of  her  wits,  and 
not  a  little  staggered  Booth,  who  was  himself  no  con- 
temptible scholar.  He  expressed  great  admiration  of  the 
lady's  learning;  upon  which  she  said  it  was  all  the  for- 
tune given  her  by  her  father,  and  all  the  dower  left  her 
by  her  husband ;  "  and  sometimes,"  said  she,  "  I  am  in- 
clined to  think  I  enjoy  more  pleasure  from  it  than  if 
they  had  bestowed  on  me  what  the  world  would,  in  gen- 
eral, call  more  valuable."  She  then  took  occasion,  from 
the  surprise  which  Booth  had  affected  to  conceive  at 
her  repeating  Latin  with  so  good  a  grace,  to  comment 
on  that  great  absurdity  (for  so  she  termed  it)  of  exclu- 
ding women  from  learning  ;  for  which  they  were  equally 
qualified  with  the  men,  and  in  which  so  many  had  made 
so  notable  a  proficiency ;  for  a  proof  of  which,  she 
mentioned  Madame  Dacier,  and  many  others. 

Though  both  Booth  and  Amelia  outwardly  concurred 
with  her  sentiments,  it  may  be  a  question  whether  they 
did  not  consent  rather  out  of  complaisance,  than  from 
their  real  judgment. 


Chapter  VIII. — Containing  some  unaccountable  behaviour  in  Mrs. 
Ellison. 

Mrs.  Ellison  made  her  entrance  at  the  end  of  the  pre- 
ceding discourse.  At  her  first  appearance  she  put  on  an 
unusual  degree  of  formality  and  reserve ;  but  when 
Amelia  had  acquainted  her  that  she  designed  to  accept 
the  favour  intended  her,  she  soon  began  to  alter  the 
gravity  of  her  muscles,  and  presently  fell  in  with  that 
L3 


244  THE   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

ridicule  which  Booth  thought  proper  to  throw  on  his  yes- 
terday's behaviour. 

The  conversation  now  became  very  lively  and  pleas- 
ant, in  which  Booth,  having  mentioned  the  discourse  that 
passed  in  the  last  chapter,  and  having  greatly  co.mpli- 
mented  Mrs.  Bennet's  speech  on  that  occasion,  Mrs.  El- 
lison, who  was  as  strenuous  an  advocate  on  the  other 
side,  began  to  rally  that  lady  extremely,  declaring  it  was 
a  certain  sign  she  intended  to  marry  again  soon.  "  Mar- 
ried ladies,"  cried  she,  "  I  believe,  sometimes  think  them- 
selves in  earnest  in  such  declarations,  though  they  are 
oftener  perhaps  meant  as  compliments  to  their  husbands  ; 
but  when  widows  exclaim  loudly  against  second  mar- 
riages, I  would  always  lay  a  wager,  that  the  man,  if  not 
the  wedding-day,  is  absolutely  fixed  on." 

Mrs.  Bennet  made  very  Uttle  answer  to  this  sarcasm. 
Indeed,  she  had  scarce  opened  her  lips  from  the  time  of 
Mrs.  Ellison's  coming  into  the  room,  and  had  grown 
particularly  grave  at  the  mention  of  the  masquerade. 
Amelia  imputed  this  to  her  being  left  out  of  the  party,  a 
matter  which  is  often  no  small  mortification  to  human 
pride  ;  and  in  a  whisper  asked  Mrs.  Ellison  if  she  could 
not  procure  a  third  ticket,  to  which  she  received  an  abso- 
lute negative. 

During  the  whole  time  of  Mrs.  Bennet's  stay,  which 
was  above  an  hour  afterward,  she  remained  perfectly 
silent,  and  looked  extremely  melancholy.  This  made 
Amelia  very  uneasy,  as  she  concluded  she  had  guessed 
the  cause  of  her  vexation  ;  in  which  opinion  she  was  the 
more  confirmed,  from  certain  looks  of  no  very  pleasant 
kind  which  Mrs.  Bennet  now  and  then  cast  on  Mrs.  El- 
lison, and  the  more  than  ordinary  concern  that  appeared 
in  the  former  lady's  countenance  whenever  the  masquer- 
ade was  mentioned,  and  which,  unfortunately,  was  the 
principal  topic  of  their  discourse  ;  for  Mrs.  Ellison  gave 
a  very  elaborate  description  of  the  extreme  beauty  of  the 
place,  and  elegance  of  the  diversion. 

When  Mrs.  Bennet  was  departed,  Amelia  could  not 
help  again  soliciting  Mrs.  Ellison  for  another  ticket,  de- 
claring she  was  certain  Mrs.  Bennet  had  a  great  incli- 
nation to  go  with  them  ;  but  Mrs.  Ellison  again  excused 
herself  from  asking  it  of  his  lordship.  "  Besides,  mad- 
am," says  she,  "  if  I  would  go  thither  with  Mrs.  Bennet, 
which  I  own  to  you  I  don't  choose,  as  she  is  a  person 
whom  nobody  knows,  I  very  much  doubt  whether  she 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  245 

herself  would  like  it ;  for  she  is  a  woman  of  a  very  unac- 
countable turn.  All  her  delight  lies  in  books  ;  and,  as 
for  public  diversions,  I  have  heard  her  often  declare  her 
abhorrence  of  them." 

"  What  then,"  said  Amelia,  "  could  occasion  all  that 
gravity  from  the  moment  the  masquerade  was  men- 
tioned." 

"  As  to  that,"  answered  the  other,  "  there  is  no  guess- 
ing. You  have  seen  her  altogether  as  grave  before  now. 
She  has  had  these  fits  of  gravity  at  times  ever  since  the 
death  of  her  husband." 

"  Poor  creature  !"  cries  Amelia :  "  I  heartily  pity  her ; 
for  she  must  certainly  suffer  a  great  deal  on  these  occa- 
sions.    I  declare  I  have  taken  a  strange  fancy  to  her." 

"  Perhaps  you  would  not  like  her  so  well,  if  you  knew 
her  thoroughly,"  answered  Mrs.  Ellison  :  "  she  is,  upon 
the  whole,  but  of  a  whimsical  temper;  and,  if  you  will 
take  my  opinion,  you  should  not  cultivate  too  much  inti- 
macy with  her.  I  know  you  will  never  mention  what  I 
say ;  but  she  is  like  some  pictures,  which  please  best  at 
a  distance." 

Amelia  did  not  seem  to  agree  with  these  sentiments, 
and  she  greatly  importuned  Mrs.  Ellison  to  be  more  ex- 
plicit, but  to  no  purpose  :  she  continued  to  give  only  dark 
hints  to  Mrs.  Bennet's  disadvantage  ;  and,  if  ever  she  let 
drop  something  a  little  too  liarsh,  she  failed  not  imme- 
diately to  contradict  herself,  by  throwing  some  gentle 
commendations  into  the  other  scale  ;  so  that  her  con- 
duct appeared  utterly  unaccountable  to  Amelia;  and, 
upon  the  whole,  she  knew  not  whether  to  conclude  Mrs. 
Ellison  to  be  a  friend  or  an  enemy  to  Mrs.  Bennet. 

During  this  latter  conversation.  Booth  was  not  in  the 
room;  for  he  had  been  summoned  down  stairs  by  the 
sergeant,  who  came  to  him  with  news  from  Murphy, 
whom  he  had  met  that  evening,  and  who  assured  the 
sergeant,  that  if  he  was  desirous  of  recovering  the  debt 
which  he  had  before  pretended  to  have  on  Booth,  he 
might  shortly  have  an  opportunity  ;  for  that  there  was 
to  be  a  very  strong  petition  to  the  board  the  next  time 
they  sat.  Murphy  said  farther,  that  he  need  not  fear 
having  his  money  ;  for  that,  to  his  certain  knowledge, 
the  captain  had  several  things  of  great  value,  and  even 
his  children  had  gold  watches. 

This  greatly  alarmed  Booth,  and  still  more,  when  the 
sergeant  reported  to  him  from  Murphy,  that  all  these 

21* 


246  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

things  had  been  seen  in  his  possession  within  a  day  last 
past.  He  now  plainly  perceived,  as  he  thought,  that 
Murphy  himself,  or  one  of  his  emissaries,  had  been  the 
supposed  madman ;  and  he  now  very  well  accounted  to 
himself,  in  his  own  mind,  for  all  that  had  happened ;  con- 
ceiving that  the  design  was  to  examine  into  the  state  of 
his  effects,  and  to  try  whether  it  was  worth  his  creditors' 
while  to  plunder  him  by  law. 

At  his  return  to  his  apartment,  he  communicated  what 
he  had  heard  to  Amelia  and  Mrs.  Ellison,  not  disguising 
his  apprehensions  of  the  enemy's  intentions ;  but  Mrs. 
Ellison  endeavoured  to  laugh  him  out  of  his  fears,  call- 
ing him  faint-hearted,  and  assuring  him  he  might  depend 
on  her  lawyer.  "  Till  you  hear  from  him,"  said  she, 
"  you  may  rest  entirely  contented ;  for,  take  my  word 
for  it,  no  danger  can  happen  to  you,  of  which  you  will 
not  be  timely  apprized  by  him :  and  as  for  the  fellow 
that  had  the  impudence  to  come  into  your  room,  if  he 
was  sent  on  such  an  errand  as  you  mention,  I  heartily 
wish  I  had  been  at  home  ;  I  would  have  secured  him 
safe  with  a  constable,  and  have  carried  him  directly  be- 
fore Justice  Thrasher.  I  know  the  justice  is  an  enemy 
to  bailiffs,  on  his  own  account." 

This  heartening  speech  a  little  roused  the  courage  of 
Booth,  and  somewhat  comforted  Amelia,  though  the 
spirits  of  both  had  been  too  much  hurried  to  suffer  them 
either  to  give  or  receive  much  entertainment  that  even- 
ing; which  Mrs.  Ellison  perceiving,  soon  took  her  leave, 
and  left  this  unhappy  couple  to  seek  relief  from  sleep, 
.that  powerful  friend  to  the  distressed,  though,  like  other 
powerful  friends,  he  is  not  always  ready  to  give  his  as- 
sistance to  those  who  want  it  most. 


Chapter  IX. — Containing  a  very  strange  incident. 

When  the  husband  and  wife  were  alone,  they  again 
talked  over  the  news  which  the  sergeant  had  brought ; 
on  which  occasion,  Amelia  did  all  she  could  to  conceal 
her  own  fears,  and  to  quiet  those  of  her  husband.  At 
last  she  turned  the  conversation  to  another  subject, 
and  poor  Mrs.  Bennet  was  brought  on  the  carpet.  "  I 
should  be  sorry,"  cries  Amelia,  "  to  find  I  had  con- 
ceived an  affection  for  a  bad  woman ;  and  yet  I  begin 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  247 

to  fear  Mrs.  Ellison  knows  somethings  of  her  more 
than  she  cares  to  discover;  why  else  should  she  be 
unwilling  to  be  seen  with  her  in  public  ?  Besides,  I 
have  observed  that  Mrs.  Ellison  has  been  always  back- 
ward to  introduce  her  to  me,  nor  would  ever  bring  her 
to  my  apartment,  though  I  have  often  desired  her.  Nay, 
she  has  given  me  frequent  hints  not  to  cultivate  the 
acquaintance.  What  do  you  think,  my  dear?  I  should 
be  very  sorry  to  contract  an  intimacy  with  a  wicked 
person." 

"  Nay,  my  dear,"  cries  Booth,  « I  know  no  more  of 
her,  nor  indeed  hardly  so  much  as  yourself:  but  this  I 
think;  that  if  Mrs.  Ellison  knows  any  reason  why  she 
should  not  have  introduced  Mrs.  Bennet  into  your  com- 
pany, she  was  very  much  in  the  wrong  in  introducing 
her  into  it." 

In  discourses  of  this  kind  they  passed  the  remainder 
of  the  evening.     In  the  morning  Booth  rose  early,  and, 
going  down  stairs,  received  from  little  Betty  a  sealed 
note,  which  contained  the  following  words : — 
"  Beware,  beware,  beware, 
For  I  apprehend  a  dreadful  snare 
Is  laid  for  virtuous  innocence, 
Under  a  friend's  false  pretence." 

Booth  immediately  inquired  of  the  girl  who  brought 
this  note ;  and  was  told  it  came  by  a  chairman,  who, 
having  delivered  it,  departed  without  saying  a  word. 

He  was  extremely  staggered  at  what  he  read,  and 
presently  referred  the  advice  to  the  same  affair  on 
which  he  had  received  those  hints  from  Atkinson  the 
preceding  evening;  but,  when  he  came  to  consider  the 
words  more  maturely,  he  could  not  so  well  reconcile 
the  last  two  lines  of  this  poetical  epistle,  if  it  may  be 
so  called,  with  any  danger  which  the  law  gave  him 
reason  to  apprehend.  Mr.  Murphy  and  his  gang  could 
not  well  be  said  to  attack  either  his  innocence  or  virtue, 
nor  did  they  attack  him  under  any  colour  or  pretence 
of  friendship. 

After  much  deliberation  on  this  matter,  a  very  strange 
suspicion  came  into  his  head;  and  this  was,  that  he 
was  betrayed  by  Mrs.  Ellison.  He  had  for  some  time 
conceived  no  very  high  opinion  of  that  good  gentle- 
woman, and  he  now  began  to  suspect  that  she  was 
bribed  to  betray  him.  By  this  means  he  thought  he 
could  best  account  for  the  strange  appearance  of  the 


248  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

supposed  madman.  And  when  this  conceit  once  had 
birth  in  his  mind,  several  circumstances  nourished  and 
improved  it:  among  these,  were  her  jocose  behaviour 
and  raillery  on  that  occasion,  and  her  attempt  to  ridicule 
his  fears  from  the  message  which  the  sergeant  had 
brought  him. 

This  suspicion  was  indeed  preposterous,  and  not  at 
all  warranted  by,  or  even  consistent  with,  the  character 
and  whole  behaviour  of  Mrs.  Ellison  ;  but  it  was  the 
only  one  which  at  that  time  suggested  itself  to  his  mind  ; 
and,  however  blameable  it  might  be,  it  was  certainly 
not  unnatural  in  him  to  entertain  it  ;  for  so  great  a  tor- 
ment is  anxiety  to  the  human  mind,  that  we  always  en- 
deavour to  relieve  ourselves  from  it,  by  guesses,  how- 
ever doubtful  or  uncertain :  on  all  which  occasions, 
dislike  and  hatred  are  the  surest  guides  to  lead  our  sus- 
picion to  its  object. 

When  Amelia  rose  to  breakfast.  Booth  produced 
the  note  which  he  had  received,  saying,  "My  dear, 
you  have  so  often  blamed  me  for  keeping  secrets  from 
you,  and  I  have  so  often,  indeed,  endeavoured  to  con- 
ceal secrets  of  this  kind  from  you  with  such  ill  success, 
that  I  think  I  shall  never  more  attempt  it."  Amelia 
read  the  letter  hastily,  and  seemed  not  a  little  discom- 
posed; then  turning  to  Booth,  with  a  very  disconso- 
late countenance,  she  said,  "  Sure  fortune  takes  a  de- 
light in  terrifying  us!  what  can  be  the  meaning  of 
this  V  Then,  fixing  her  eyes  attentively  on  the  paper, 
she  perused  it  for  some  time,  till  Booth  cried,  "  How 
is  it  possible,  my  Emily,  you  can  read  such  stuff  pa- 
tiently 1  the  verses  are  certainly  as  bad  as  ever  were 
written."  "  I  was  trying,  my  dear,"  answered  she,  "  to 
recollect  the  hand ;  for  I  will  take  my  oath  I  have 
seen  it  before,  and  that  very  lately;"  and  suddenly 
she  cried  out  with  great  emotion,  "  I  remember  it  per- 
fectly now:  it  is  Mrs.  Bennet's  hand.  I\Irs.  Ellison 
showed  me  a  letter  from  her  but  a  day  or  two  ago. 
It  is  a  very  remarkable  hand,  and  I  am  positive  it  is 
hers." 

"  If  it  be  hers,"  cries  Booth,  "  what  can  she  possibly 
mean  by  the  latter  part  of  her  caution  1  sure  Mrs.  Elh- 
son  has  no  intention  to  betray  us." 

"  I  know  not  what  she  means,"  answered  Amelia ; 
"but  I  am  resolved  to  know  immediately,  for  I  am  cer- 
tain of  the  hand.     By  the  greatest  luck  in  the  world,  she 


THE    HISTORY  OF   AMELIA.  249 

told  me  yesterday  where  her  lodgings  were,  when  she 
pressed  me  exceedingly  to  come  and  see  her.  She  lives 
but  a  very  few  doors  from  us,  and  I  will  go  to  her  this 
moment." 

Booth  made  not  the  least  objection  to  his  wife's  design. 
His  curiosity  was,  indeed,  as  great  as  hers,  and  so  was 
his  impatience  to  satisfy  it,  though  he  mentioned  not 
this  his  impatience  to  Amelia ;  and  perhaps  it  had  been 
well  for  him  if  he  had. 

Amelia,  therefore,  presently  equipped  herself  in  her 
walking-dress  ;  and,  leaving  her  children  to  the  care  of 
her  husband,  made  all  passible  haste  to  Mrs.  Bemiet's 
iodgings. 

Amelia  waited  near  five  minutes  at  Mrs.  Bennetts 
door  before  any  one  came  to  open  it;  at  length  a  maid- 
servant appeared,  who,  being  asked  if  Mrs.  Bennet  was 
at  home,  answered,  with  some  confusion  in  her  counte- 
iiance,  that  she  did  not  know  :  "  but,  madam,"  says  she, 
**'  if  you  will  send  up  your  name,  I  will  go  and  see." 
Amelia  then  told  her  name;  and  the  wench,  after  stay- 
ing a  considerable  time,  returned  and  acquainted  her 
that  Mrs.  Bennet  was  at  home.  She  was  then  ushered 
into  a  parlour,  and  told  that  the  lady  would  wait  on  her 
presently. 

In  this  .parlour  Amelia  cooled  her  heels,  as  the  phrase 
is,  near  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  She  seemed,  indeed,  at 
this  time,  in  the  miserable  situation  of  one  of  those  poor 
wretches,  who  make  their  morning  visits  to  the  great, 
to  solicit  favours,  or  perhaps  to  solicit  the  payment  of  a 
debt ;  for  both  are  alike  treated  as  beggars,  and  the  lat- 
ter sometimes  considered  as  the  more  troublesome  beg- 
gars of  the  two. 

During  her  stay  here,  Amelia  observed  the  house  to 
be  in  great  confusion  ;  a  great  bustle  was  heard  above 
stairs,  and  the  maid  ran  up  and  down  several  times  in  a 
great  hurry. 

At  length  Mrs.  Bennet  herself  came  in.  She  was 
greatly  disordered  in  her  looks,  and  had,  as  the  women 
call  it,  huddled  on  her  clothes  in  much  haste ;  for,  in 
truth,  she  was  in  bed  when  Amelia  first  came.  Of  this 
fact  she  informed  her,  as  the  only  apology  she  could 
make  for  having  caused  her  to  wait  so  long  for  her 
company. 

Amelia  very  readily  accepted  her  apology  ;  but  asked 
her,  with  a  smile,  if  these  early  hours  were  usual  with 
L  3 


250  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

her.  Mrs.  Bennet  turned  as  red  as  scarlet  at  the  ques- 
tion, and  answered,  "  No,  indeed,  dear  madam ;  I  am, 
for  the  most  part,  a  very  early  riser ;  but  I  happened 
accidentally  to  sit  up  very  late  last  night.  I  am  sure  I 
had  little  expectation  of  your  intending  me  such  a  favour 
this  morning." 

Amelia,  looking  very  steadfastly  at  her,  said,  "  Is  it 
possible,  madam,  you  should  think  such  a  note  as  this 
would  raise  no  curiosity  in  me?"  She  then  gave  her 
the  note,  asking  her  if  she  did  not  know  the  hand. 

Mrs.  Bennet  appeared  in  the  utmost  surprise  and  con- 
fusion at  this  instant.  Indeed,  if  Amelia  had  conceived 
but  the  slightest  suspicion  before,  the  behaviour  of  the 
lady  would  have  been  a  sufficient  confirmation  to  her  of 
the  truth.  She  waited  not,  therefore,  for  an  answer, 
which,  indeed,  the  other  seemed  in  no  haste  to  give ; 
but  conjured  her,  in  the  most  earnest  manner,  to  explain 
to  her  the  meaning  of  so  extraordinary  an  act  of  friend- 
ship ;  "  for  so,"  said  she,  "  I  esteem  it,  being  convinced 
you  must  have  sufficient  reason  for  the  warning  you 
have  given  me." 

Mrs.  Bennet,  after  some  hesitation,  answered,  "  I  need 
not,  I  believe,  tell  you  how  much  I  am  surprised  at  what 
you  have  shown  me,  and  the  chief  reason  of  my  surprise 
is  how  you  came  to  discover  my  hand.  Sure,  madam, 
you  have  not  shown  it  to  Mrs.  Ellison  V 

Amelia  declared  she  had  not,  but  desired  she  would 
question  her  no  farther.  "  What  signifies  how  I  discov- 
ered it,  since  your  hand  it  certainly  is  1" 

"  I  own  it  is,"  cries  Mrs.  Bennet,  recovering  her  spir- 
its ;  "  and  since  you  have  not  shown  it  to  that  woman, 
I  am  satisfied.  I  begin  to  guess  now  whence  you  might 
have  your  information :  but  no  matter ;  I  wish  I  had 
never  done  anything  of  which  I  ought  to  be  more 
ashamed.  No  one  can,  I  think,  justly  accuse  me  of  a 
crime  on  that  account;  and,  I  thank  Heaven,  my  shame 
will  never  be  directed  by  the  false  opinion  of  the  world. 
Perhaps  it  was  wrong  to  show  my  letter ;  but  when  I 
consider  all  circumstances,  I  can  forgive  it." 

"  Since  you  have  guessed  the  truth,"  said  Amelia,  "I 
am  not  obliged  to  deny  it.  She  indeed  showed  me  your 
letter ;  but  I  am  sure  you  have  not  the  least  reason  to 
be  ashamed  of  it.  On  the  contrary,  your  behaviour  on 
so  melancholy  an  occasion  was  highly  praiseworthy; 
and  your  bearing  up  under  such  afflictions  as  the  loss  of 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  251 

a  husband  in  so  dreadful  a  situation,  was  truly  great  and 
heroical." 

"  So  Mrs.  Ellison  then  has  shown  you  my  letter  ?" 
cries  Mrs.  Bennet,  eagerly. 

"  Why,  did  you  not  guess  it  yourself  ?"  answered 
Amelia ;  "  otherwise  I  am  sure  I  have  betrayed  my  hon- 
our in  mentioning  it.  I  hope  you  have  not  drawn  me 
inadvertently  into  any  breach  of  my  promise.  Did  you 
not  assert,  and  that  with  an  absolute  certainty,  that  you 
knew  she  had  shown  me  your  letter,  and  that  you  was 
not  angry  with  her  for  so  doing  V 

"I  am  so  confused,"  replied  Mrs.  Bennet,  "that  I 
scarce  know  what  I  say :  yes,  yes,  I  remember  I  did 
say  so  :  1  wish  I  had  no  greater  reason  to  be  angry  with 
her  than  that." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,"  cries  Amelia,  "  do  not  delay 
my  request  any  longer.  What  you  say  now  greatly  in- 
creases my  curiosity  ;  and  my  mind  will  be  on  the  rack 
till  you  discover  your  whole  meaning ;  for  I  am  more 
and  more  convinced  that  something  of  the  utmost  im- 
portance was  the  purport  of  your  message." 

"  Of  the  utmost  importance,  indeed,"  cries  Mrs.  Ben- 
net:  "at  least,  you  will  own  my  apprehensions  were 
sufficiently  well  founded.  Oh,  gracious  Heaven  !  how 
happy  shall  I  think  myself  if  I  should  have  proved  your 
preservation  !  I  will,  indeed,  explain  my  meaning  ;  but 
in  order  to  disclose  all  my  fears  in  their  just  colours,  I 
must  unfold  my  whole  history  to  you.  Can  you  have 
patience,  madam,  to  listen  to  the  story  of  one  of  the 
most  unfortunate  of  women  V 

Amelia  assured  her  of  the  highest  attention;  and  Mrs. 
Bennet  soon  after  began  to  relate  what  is  written  in  the 
seventh  book  of  this  history. 


BOOK   VII. 

Chapter  I. — A  short  chapter,  and  consequently  requiring  no'preface. 

Mrs.  Bennet  having  fastened  the  door,  and  both  the 
ladies  having  taken  their  places,  she  once  or  twice  offered 
to  speak,  when  passion  stopped  her  utterance  :  and  after 


252  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

a  minute's  silence,  she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  :  upon 
which,  Amelia,  expressing  the  utmost  tenderness  for 
her,  as  well  by  her  look  as  by  her  accent,  cried,  "  What 
can  be  the  reason,  dear  madam,  of  all  this  emotion  V — 
*'  Oh,  Mrs.  Booth !"  answered  she,  "  1  find  1  have  under- 
taken what  I  am  not  able  to  perform.  You  would  not 
wonder  at  my  emotion,  if  you  knew  you  had  an  adul- 
teress and  a  murderer  now  standing  before  you." 

Amelia  turned  pale  as  death  at  these  words ;  which 
Mrs.  Bennet  observing,  collected  ail  the  force  she  was 
able ;  and,  a  little  composing  her  countenance,  cried, 
"1  see,  madam,  I  have  terrified  you  with  such  dreadful 
words ;  but  I  hope  you  will  not  think  me  guilty  of  these 
crimes  in  the  blackest  degree."  "  Guilty  ?"  cries  Ame- 
lia :  "'oh  heavens!"  "  1  believe  indeed  your  candour," 
continued  Mrs.  Bonnet,  "  will  be  readier  to  acquit  me 
than  I  am  to  acquit  myself.  Indiscretion,  at  least,  the 
highest,  most  unpardonable  indiscretion,  1  shall  always 
lay  to  my  own  charge ;  and  when  I  reflect  on  the  fatal 
consequences,  I  can  never,  never  forgive  myself."  Here 
she  again  began  to  lament  in  so  bitter  a  manner,  that 
Amelia  endeavoured,  as  much  as  she  could,  (for  she  was 
herself  greatly  shocked,)  to  sooth  and  comfort  her ; 
telling  her  that  if  indiscretion  was  her  highest  crime, 
the  unhappy  consequences  made  her  rather  an  unfor- 
tunate than  a  guilty  person ;  and  concluded  by  saying, 
*'  Indeed,  madam,  you  have  raised  my  curiosity  to  the 
highest  pitch,  and  I  beg  you  will  proceed  with  your 
story." 

Mrs.  Bennet  then  seemed  a  second  time  going  to  be- 
gin her  relation,  when  she  cried  out,  "  I  would,  if  possi- 
ble, tire  you  with  no  more  of  my  unfortunate  life  than 
just  with  that  part  which  leads  to  a  catastrophe,  in  which 
1  think  you  may  yourself  be  interested ;  but  I  protest  I 
am  at  a  loss  where  to  begin." 

"Begin  wherever  you  please,  dear  madam,"  cries 
Amelia  ;  "  but  I  beg  you  will  consider  my  impatience." 
— "  I  do  consider  it,"  answered  Mrs.  Bennet ;  "  and 
therefore  would  begin  with  that  part  of  my  story  which 
leads  directly  to  what  concerns  yourself;  for  how,  in- 
deed, should  my  life  produce  anything  worthy  your 
notice  ?"  "  Do  not  say  so,  madam,"  cries  Amelia :  "  I 
assure  you  I  have  long  suspected  there  were  some  very 
remarkable  incidents  in  your  life,  and  have  only  wanted 


THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA.  2591 

an  opportunity  to  impart  to  you  my  desire  of  hearing 
them  :  I  beg  therefore  you  would  make  no  more  apolo*^ 
gies."  "I  will  not,  madam,"  cries  Mrs.  Bennet,  "and 
yet  I  would  avoid  anything  trivial ;  though,  indeed,  in 
stories  of  distress,  especially  where  love  is  concerned, 
many  little  incidents  may  appear  trivial  to  those  who 
have  never  felt  the  passion,  which  to  delicate  minds  are 
the  most  interesting  part  of  the  whole."  *'  Nay,  but, 
dear  madam,"  cries  Amelia,  "  this  is  all  preface." 

"  Well,  madam,"  answered  Mrs,  Bennet,  *'  I  will  con- 
sider your  impatience."  She  then  rallied  all  her  spirits 
in  the  best  manner  she  could,  and  began  as  is  written  in 
the  next  chapter. 

And  here,  possibly,  the  reader  will  blame  Mrs.  Bennet 
for  taking  her  story  so  far  back,  and  relating  so  much 
of  her  life  in  which  Amelia  had  no  concern ;  but,  in 
truth,  she  was  desirous  of  inculcating  a  good  opinion 
of  herself,  from  recounting  those  transactions  where 
her  conduct  was  unexceptionable,  before  she  came  to 
the  more  dangerous  and  suspicious  part  of  her  character. 
This  I  really  suppose  to  have  been  her  intention  ;  for,  to 
sacrifice  the  time  and  patience  of  Amelia,  at  such  a 
season,  to  the  mere  love  of  talking  of  herself,  would 
have  been  as  unpardonable  in  her,  as  the  bearing  it  was 
in  Amelia  a  proof  of  the  most  perfect  good-breeding. 


Chapter  II. — The  beginning  of  Mrs.  Bennet's  history 

*'  I  WAS  the  younger  of  two  daughters  of  a  clergyman 
in  Essex ;  of  one,  in  whose  praise,  if  I  should  indulge 
my  fond  heart  in  speaking,  I  think  my  invention  could 
not  outgo  the  reality.  He  was  indeed  well  worthy  of 
the  cloth  he  wore;  and  that,  1  think,  is  the  highest 
character  a  man  can  obtain. 

"  During  the  first  part  of  my  life,  even  till  I  reached 
my  sixteenth  year,  I  can  recollect  nothing  to  relate  to 
you.  All  was  one  long  serene  day,  in  looking  back  upon 
which,  as  when  we  cast  our  eyes  on  a  calm  sea,  no  ob- 
ject arises  to  my  view :  all  appears  one  scene  of  happi- 
ness and  tranquillity. 

"  On  the  day,  then,  when  I  became  sixteen  )'ears  old, 
must  I  begin  my  history ;  for  on  that  day  I  first  tasted 
the  bitterness  of  sorrow. 
22 


254  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  My  father,  besides  those  prescribed  by  our  reli^on, 
kept  five  festivals  every  year :  these  were  on  his  wed- 
ding-day, and  on  the  birthday  of  each  of  his  httle 
family;  on  these  occasions  he  used  to  invite  two  or 
three  neighbours  to  his  house,  and  to  indulge  himself,  as 
he  said,  in  great  excess  ;  for  so  he  called  drinking  a  pint 
of  very  small  punch  ;  and,  indeed,  it  might  appear  ex- 
cess to  one  who  on  other  days  rarely  tasted  any  liquor 
stronger  than  small  beer. 

"  Upon  my  unfortunate  birthday,  then,  when  we  were 
all  in  a  high  degree  of  mirth,  my  mother  having  left  the 
room  after  dinner,  and  staying  away  pretty  long,  my 
father  sent  me  to  see  for  her.  I  went  according  to  his 
orders;  but  though  I  searched  the  whole  house,  and 
called  after  her  without  doors,  I  could  neither  see  nor 
hear  her»  I  was  a  little  alarmed  at  this,  though  far  from 
suspecting  any  great  mischief  had  befallen  her;  and  ran 
back  to  acquaint  my  father,  who  answered  coolly,  (for  he 
was  a  man  of  the  calmest  temper,) '  Very  well,  my  dear : 
I  suppose  she  is  not  gone  far,  and  will  be  here  imme- 
diately.' Half  an  hour  or  more  passed  after  this,  when^ 
she  not  returning,  my  father  himself  expressed  some  sur- 
prise at  her  stay ;  declaring,  it  must  be  some  matter  of 
importance  which  could  detain  her  at  that  time  from  her 
company.  His  surprise  now  increased  ever}-  minute  ;  and 
he  began  to  grow  uneasy,  and  to  show  sufficient  symptoms 
in  his  countenance  of  what  he  felt  within.  He  then 
despatched  the  servant-maid  to  inquire  after  her  mistress 
in  the  parish,  but  waited  not  her  return  ;  for  she  was 
scarce  gone  out  of  doors,  before  he  begged  leave  of  his 
guests  to  go  himself  on  the  same  errand.  The  company 
now  all  broke  up,  and  attended  my  father,  all  endeav- 
ouring to  give  him  hopes  that  no  mischief  had  hap- 
pened; they  searched  the  whole  parish,  but  in  vain  ;  they 
could  neither  see  my  mother,  nor  hear  any  news  of  her. 
My  father  returned  home  in  a  state  little  short  of  dis- 
traction. His  friends  in  vain  attempted  to  administer 
either  advice  or  comfort ;  he  threw  himself  on  the  floor 
in  the  most  bitter  agonies  of  despair. 

"  While  he  lay  in  this  condition,  my  sister  and  my- 
self lying  by  him,  all  equally,  1  believe,  and  completely 
miserable,  our  old  servant-maid  came  into  the  room, 
and  cried  out,  her  mind  misgave  her  that  she  knew 
"Where  her  mistress  was.  Upon  these  words  my  father 
sprang  from  the  floor,  and  asked  her  eagerly,  '  Where  V 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  255 

But,  oh,  Mrs.  Booth  !  how  can  I  describe  the  particulars 
of  a  scene  to  you,  the  remembrance  of  which  chills 
my  blood  with  horror,  and  which  the  agonies  of  my 
mind,  when  it  passed,  made  all  a  scene  of  confusion ! 
The  fact  then  in  short  was  this :  my  mother,  who  was  a 
most  indulgent  mistress  to  one  servant,  which  was  all 
we  kept,  was  nnwiUing,  I  suppose,  to  disturb  her  at  her 
dinner;  and  therefore  went  herself  to  fill  her  tea-kettle 
at  a  well,  into  which,  stretching  herself  too  far,  as  we 
imagine,  the  water  then  being  very  low,  she  fell  with 
the  tea-kettle  in  her  hand.  The  missing  this  gave  the 
poor  old  wretch  the  first  hint  of  her  suspicion,  which, 
upon  examination,  was  found  to  be  too  well  grounded. 

"  What  we  ail  suflTered  on  this  occasion  may  more 
easily  be  felt  than  described."  "  It  may,  indeed,"  an- 
swered Amelia  ;  '•  and  I  am  so  sensible  of  it,  that,  unless 
you  have  a  mind  to  see  me  faint  before  your  face,  I 
beg  you  will  order  me  something :  a  glass  of  water,  if 
you  please."  Mrs.  Bennet  immediately  complied  with 
her  friend's  request :  a  glass  of  water  was  brought,  and 
some  hartshorn  drops  infused  into  it;  which  Amelia 
having  drunk  off,  declared  she  found  herself  much  better ; 
and. then  Mrs.  Bennet  proceeded  thus  : — 

*'  I  will  not  dwell  on  a  scene  which  I  see  has  already 
so  much  affected  your  tender  heart,  and  which  is  as 
disagreeable  to  me  to  relate  as  it  can  be  to  you  to  hear. 
I  will  therefore  only  mention  to  you  the  behaviour  of 
my  father  on  this  occasion,  which  was  indeed  becoming 
a  philosopher  and  a  Christian  divine.  On  the  day  after 
my  mother's  funeral,  he  sent  for  my  sister  and  myself 
into  his  room  ;  where,  after  many  caresses,  and  every 
demonstration  of  fatherly  tenderness,  as  well  in  silence 
as  in  words,  he  began  to  exhort  us  to  bear  with  patience 
the  great  calamity  that  had  befallen  us ;  saying,  that '  as 
every  human  accident,  how  terrible  soever,  must  hap- 
pen to  us  by  divine  permission  at  least,  a  dtie  sense 
of  our  duty  to  our  great  Creator  must  teach  us  an  abso- 
lute submission  to  his  will.  Not  only  religion,  but  com- 
mon sense  must  teach  us  this  ;  for,  oh,  my  dear  children,' 
cries  he,  *  how  vain  is  all  resistance,  all  repining !  Could 
tears  wash  back  again  my  angel  from  the  grave,  I  should 
drain  all  the  juices  of  my  body  through  my  eyes ;  but 
oh,  could  we  fill  up  that  cursed  well  with  our  tears, 
iiow  fruitless  would  be  all  our  sorrow  I'  I  think  I  repeat 
you  his  very  words  ;  for  the  impression  they  made  on 


256  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

me  is  never  to  be  obliterated.  He  then  proceeded  to 
comfort  us  with  the  cheerful  thought  that  the  loss  was 
entirely  our  own,  and  that  my  mother  was  greatly  a 
gainer  by  the  accident  which  we  lamented.  '  I  have  a 
wife,'  cries  he,  '  my  children,  and  you  have  a  mother 
now  among  the  heavenly  choir  ;  how  selfish  therefore 
is  all  our  grief !  how  cruel  to  her  are  all  our  wishes  !'  In 
this  manner  he  talked  to  us  near  half  an  hour,  though  I 
must  frankly  own  to  you,  his  arguments  had  not  the 
immediate  good  effect  on  us  which  they  deserved,  for 
we  retired  from  him  very  little  the  better  for  his  exhor- 
tations :  however,  they  became  every  day  more  and 
more  forcible  upon  our  recollection ;  indeed,  they  were 
greatly  strengthened  by  his  example  :  for  in  this,  as  in 
all  other  instances,  he  practised  the  doctrines  which  he 
taught.  From  this  day  he  never  mentioned  my  mother 
more,  and  soon  after  recovered  his  usual  cheerfulness 
in  pulDlic  ;  though  I  have  reason  to  think  he  paid  many 
a  bitter  sigh,  in  private,  to  that  remembrance,  which 
neither  philosophy  nor  Christianity  could  expunge. 

"  My  father's  advice,  enforced  by  his  example,  to- 
gether with  the  kindness  of  some  of  our  friends,  assisted 
by  that  ablest  of  all  the  mental  physicians,  Time,  in  a 
few  months  pretty  well  restored  my  tranquillity,  when 
fortune  made  a  second  attack  on  my  quiet.  My  sister, 
whom  I  dearly  loved,  and  who  as  warmly  returned  my 
affection,  had  fallen  into  an  ill  state  of  health  some  time 
before  the  fatal  accident  which  I  have  related.  She  was 
indeed  at  that  time  so  much  better,  that  we  had  great 
hopes  of  her  perfect  recovery  ;  but  the  disorders  of  her 
mind  on  that  dreadful  occasion  so  affected  her  body,  that 
she  presently  relapsed  to  her  former  declining  state,  and 
thence  grew  continually  worse  and  worse,  till,  after  a 
decay  of  near  seven  months,  she  followed  my  poor 
mother  to  the  grave. 

"  I  will  not  tire  you,  dear  madam,  with  repetitions  of 
grief;  I  will  only  mention  two  observations  which  have 
occurred  to  me  from  reflections  on  the  two  losses  I  have 
mentioned.  The  first  is,  that  a  mind  once  violently  hurt, 
grov/s,  as  it  were,  callous  to  any  future  impressions  of 
grief,  and  is  never  capable  of  feeling  the  same  pangs  a 
second  time.  The  other  observation  is,  that  the  arrows 
of  fortune,  as  well  as  all  others,  derive  their  force  from 
the  velocity  with  which  they  are  discharged  j  for  when 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  S57 

they  approach  you  by  slow  and  perceptible  degrees,  they 
have  but  very  little  power  to  do  you  mischief. 

"  The  truth  of  these  observations  I  experienced,  not 
only  in  my  own  heart,  but  in  the  behaviour  of  my  father, 
whose  philosophy  seemed  to  gain  a  complete  triumph 
over  this  latter  calamity. 

"  Our  family  was  now  reduced  to  two ;  and  my  father 
grew  extremely  fond  of  me,  as  if  he  had  now  conferred 
an  entire  stock  of  affection  on  me,  that  had  before  been 
divided.  His  words,  indeed,  testified  no  less,  for  he 
daily  called  me  his  only  darling,  his  whole  comfort,  his 
all.  He  committed  the  whole  charge  of  his  house  to 
my  care,  and  gave  me  the  name  of  his  tittle  house- 
keeper; an  appellation  of  which  I  was  then  as  proud 
as  any  minister  of  state  can  be  of  his  titles.  But  though 
I  was  very  industrious  in  the  discharge  of  my  occupa- 
tion, I  did  not,  however,  neglect  my  studies,  in  which  I 
had  made  so  great  a  proficiency,  that  I  was  become  a 
pretty  good  mistress  of  the  Latin  language,  and  had 
made  some  progress  in  the  Greek.  I  believe,  madam,  I 
have  formerly  acquainted  you,  that  learning  was  the 
chief  estate  I  inherited  of  my  father,  in  which  he  had 
instructed  me  from  my  earliest  youth. 

"  The  kindness  of  this  good  man  had,  at  length,  wiped 
oflf  the  remembrance  of  all  losses ;  and  I,  during  two 
years,  led  a  life  of  great  tranquillity,  I  think  I  might 
almost  say  of  perfect  happiness. 

"  I  was  now  in  the  nineteenth  year  of  my  age,  when 
my  father's  good  fortune  removed  us  from  the  county 
of  Essex  into  Hampshire,  where  a  living  was  conferred 
on  him,  by  one  of  his  old  schoolfellows,  of  twice  the 
value  of  what  he  was  before  possessed  of. 

"  His  predecessor  in  this  new  living  had  died  in  very 
indifferent  circumstances,  and  had  left  behind  him  a 
widow  with  two  small  children :  my  father,  therefore, 
who,  with  great  economy,  had  a  most  generous  soul, 
bought  the  whole  furniture  of  the  parsonage-house  at  a 
very  high  price  :  some  of  it,  indeed,  he  would  have 
wanted  ;  for  though  our  little  habitation  in  Essex  was 
most  completely  furnished,  yet  it  bore  no  proportion  to 
the  largeness  of  that  house  in  which  he  was  now  to 
dwell. 

"  His  motive,  however,  to  the  purchase  was,  I  am 
convinced,  solely  generosity,  which  appeared  sufficient- 
ly by  the  price  he  gave,  and  may  be  farther  enforced  by 
22* 


258  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

the  kindness  he  showed  the  widow  in  another  instance  ; 
for  he  assigned  her  an  apartment  for  the  use  of  herself 
and  her  httle  family,  which,  he  told  her,  she  was  wel- 
come to  enjoy  as  long  as  it  suited  her  convenience. 

"As  this  widow  was  very  young,  and  generally  thought 
to  be  tolerably  pretty,  though  I  own  she  had  a  cast  with 
her  eyes  which  1  never  liked,  my  father,  you  may  sup- 
pose, acted  from  a  less  noble  principle  than  1  have  hint- 
ed ;  but  1  must  in  justice  acquit  him :  for  these  kind 
offers  were  made  her  before  ever  he  had  seen  her  face ; 
and  I  have  the  greatest  reason  to  think,  that  for  a  long 
time  after  he  had  seen  her,  he  beheld  her  with  much  in- 
difference. 

"  This  act  of  my  father's  gave  me,  when  1  first  heard 
it,  great  satisfaction;  for,  1  may  at  least,  with  the  mod- 
esty of  the  ancient  philosophers,  call  myself  a  lover  of 
generosity;  but,  when  I  became  acquainted  with  the 
widow,  1  was  still  more  delighted  with  what  my  father 
had  done ;  for  though  I  could  not  agree  with  those  who 
thought  her  a  consummate  beauty,  I  must  allow  that 
she  was  very  fully  possessed  of  the  power  of  making 
herself  agreeable ;  and  this  power  she  exerted  with  so 
much  success,  with  such  indefatigable  industry  to  oblige, 
that  within  three  months  I  became  in  the  highest  man-r 
ner  pleased  with  my  new  acquaintance,  and  had  con- 
tracted the  most  sincerft  friendship  for  her. 

"  But  if  I  was  so  pleased  with  the  widow,  my  father 
was  by  this  time  enamoured  of  her.  She  had,  indeed, 
by  the  most  artful  conduct  in  the  world,  so  insinuated 
herself  into  his  favour,  so  entirely  infatuated  him,  that 
he  never  showed  the  least  marks  of  cheerfulness  in  her 
absence,  and  could,  in  truth,  scarce  bear  that  she  should 
be  out  of  his  sight. 

"  She  had  managed  this  matter  so  well,  (oh,  she  is 
the  most  artful  of  women !)  that  my  father's  heart  was 
gone  before  I  ever  suspected  it  was  in  danger.  The 
discovery,  you  may  easily  believe,  madam,  was  not 
pleasing.  The  name  of  a  mother-in-law  sounded  dread- 
ful in  my  ears;  nor  could  1  bear  the  thought  of  parting 
again  with  a  share  in  those  dear  affections,  of  which  1 
had  purchased  the  whole  by  the  loss  of  a  beloved  mother 
and  sister. 

"  In  the  first  hurry  and  disorder  of  my  mind  on  this 
occasion,  \  committed  a  crime  of  the  highest  kind  against 
all  the  laws  of  prudence  and  discretion:  I  took  the 


THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA.  259 

young  lady  herself  very  roundly  to  task ;  treated  her 
designs  on  my  father  as  little  better  than  a  design  to 
commit  a  theft;  atid,  in  my  passion,  I  believe,  said,  she 
might  be  ashamed  to  think  of  marrying  a  man  old 
enough  to  be  her  grandfather ;  for  so  in  reality  he  al- 
most was. 

"  The  lady,  on  this  occasion,  acted  finely  the  part  of 
a  hypocrite.  She  affected  to  be  liighly  affronted  at  my 
unjust  suspicions,  as  she  called  them ;  and  proceeded  to 
such  asseverations  of  her  innocence,  that  she  almost 
brought  me  to  discredit  the  evidence  of  my  own  eyes 
and  ears. 

"  My  father,  however,  acted  much  more  honestly ; 
for  he  fell  the  next  day  into  a  more  violent  passion  with 
me  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  in  before,  and  asked  me 
whether  I  intended  to  return  his  paternal  fondness  by 
assumiug  the  right  of  controlling  his  inclinations  ;  with 
more  of  the  like  kind,  which  fully  convinced  me  what 
had  passed  between  him  and  the  lady,  and  how  little  I 
had  injured  her  in  my  suspicions. 

"  Hitherto,  I  frankly  own,  my  aversion  to  this  match 
had  been  principally  on  my  own  account ;  for  I  had  no 
ill  opinion  of  the  woman,  though  I  thought  neither  her 
circumstances  nor  my  father's  age  promised  any  kind 
of  felicity  from  such  a  union :  but  now  I  learned  some 
particulars,  which,  had  not  our  quarrel  become  public  in 
the  parish,  I  should  perhaps  have  never  known.  In 
short,  I  was  informed,  that  this  gentle,  obhging  crea- 
ture, as  she  had  at  first  appeared  to  me,  had  the  spirit  of 
a  tigress,  and  was  by  many  believed  to  have  broken  the 
heart  of  her  first  husband. 

"  The  truth  of  this  matter  being  confirmed  to  me  upon 
examination,  1  resolved  not  to  suppress  it.  On  this  oc- 
casion fortune  seemed  to  favour  me,  by  giving  me  a 
speedy  opportunity  of  seeing  my  father  alone  and  in 
good-humour.  He  now  first  began  to  open  his  intended 
marriage,  telling  me  that  he  had  formerly  had  some  reli- 
gious objections  to  bigamy,  but  he  had  very  fully  consid- 
ered the  matter,  and  had  satisfied  himself  of  its  legality. 
He  then  faithfully  promised  me,  that  no  second  mar- 
riage should  in  the  least  impair  his  affection  for  me ; 
and  concluded  with  the  highest  eulogiums  on  the  good- 
ness of  the  widow,  protesting  that  it  was  her  virtues, 
and  not  her  person,  with  which  he  was  enamoured. 

"  I  now  fell  upon  my  knees  before  him,  and  bathing  his 


260  THE  History  of  Amelia. 

hand  in  my  tears,  which  flowed  very  plentifully  from 
my  eyes,  acquainted  him  with  all  I  had  heard;  and  was 
so  very  imprudent,  I  might  almost  say  so  cruel,  as  to 
disclose  the  author  of  my  information. 

"  Afy  father  heard  me  without  any  indication  of  pas- 
sion ;  and  answered  coldly,  that  if  there  was  any  proof 
of  such  facts,  he  should  decline  any  farther  thoughts  of 
this  match.  '  But,  child,'  said  he,  '  though  I  am  far  from 
suspecting  the  truth  of  what  you  tell  me,  as  far  as  re- 
gards your  knowledge,  yet  you  know  the  inclination  of 
the  world  to  slander.'  However,  before  we  parted,  he 
promised  to  make  a  proper  inquiry  into  what  1  had  told 
him.  But  I  ask  your  pardon,  dear  madam,  I  am  running 
minutely  into  those  particulars  of  my  life  in  which  you 
have  not  the  least  concern." 

Amelia  stopped  her  friend  short  in  her  apology,  and 
though,  perhaps,  she  thought  her  impertinent  enough, 
yet,  such  was  her  good-breeding,  she  gave  her  many 
assurances  of  a  curiosity  to  know  every  incident  of  her 
life  which  she  could  remember ;  after  which,  Mrs.  Ben- 
net  proceeded,  as  in  the  next  chapter. 


Chapter  III. — Continuation  of  Mrs.  Bennet's  story. 

"  I  THINK,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Bennet,  "  I  told  you  my 
father  promised  me  to  inquire  farther  into  the  affair,  but 
he  had  hardly  time  to  keep  his  word  ;  for  we  separated 
pretty  late  in  the  evening,  and  early  the  next  morning 
he  was  married  to  the  widow. 

"  But  though  he  gave  no  credit  to  my  information,  I 
had  sufficient  reason  to  think  he  did  not  forget  it,  by  the 
resentment  which  he  soon  discovered  to  both  the  per- 
sons whom  I  had  named  as  my  informers. 

"  Nor  was  it  long  before  I  had  good  cause  to  believe 
that  my  father's  new  wife  was  perfectly  well  acquaint- 
ed with  the  good  opinion  I  had  of  her,  not  only  from 
her  usage  of  me,  but  from  certain  hints,  which  she  threw 
forth  with  an  air  of  triumph.  One  day,  particularly,  I 
remember  she  said  to  my  father,  upon  his  mentioning 
his  age,  '  Oh,  my  dear,  I  hope  you  have  many  years  yet 
to  live  ;  unless,  indeed,  1  should  be  so  cruel  as  to  break 
your  heart.'  She  spoke  these  words  looking  me  full  in 
the  face,  and  accompanied  them  with  a  sneer,  in  which 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  261 

the  highest  malice  was  visible,  under  a  thin  covering  of 
affected  pleasantry. 

"  I  will  not  entertain  you,  madam,  with  anything  so 
common  as  the  cruel  usage  of  a  step-mother;  nor  of, 
what  affected  me  much  more,  the  unkind  behaviour  of 
a  father  under  such  an  influence.  It  shall  suffice  only 
to  tell  you,  that  I  had  the  mortification  to  perceive  the 
gradual  and  daily  decrease  of  my  father's  affection. 
His  smiles  were  converted  into  frowns ;  the  tender  ap- 
pellations of  child,  and  dear,  were  exchanged  for  plain 
Molly,  that  girl,  that  creature,  and  sometimes  much 
harder  names.  1  was  at  first  turned  all  at  once  into  a 
cipher ;  and  at  last,  seemed  to  be  considered  as  a  nui- 
sance in  the  family. 

"  Thus  altered  was  the  man,  of  whom  I  gave  you 
such  a  character  at  the  entrance  of  my  story ;  but,  alas! 
he  no  longer  acted  from  his  own  excellent  disposition, 
but  was  in  everything  governed  and  directed  by  my 
mother-in-law.  In  fact,  whenever  there  is  great  dispar- 
ity of  years  between  husband  and  wife,  the  younger  is, 
I  believe,  always  possessed  of  absolute  power  over  the 
elder;  for  superstition  itself  is  a  less  firm  support  of  ab- 
solute power  than  dotage. 

"  But  though  his  wife  was  so  entirely  mistress  of  my 
father's  will,  that  she  could  make  him  use  me  ill,  she 
could  not  so  perfectly  subdue  his  understanding,  as  to 
prevent  him  from  being  conscious  of  such  ill  usage  ;  and 
from  this  consciousness  he  began  inveterately  to  hate  me. 
Of  this  hatred  he  gave  me  numberless  instances,  and  I 
protest  to  you,  I  know  not  any  other  reason  for  it  than 
what  I  have  assigned  ;  and  the  cause,  as  experience  has 
convinced  me,  is  adequate  to  the  effect. 

"  While  I  was  in  this  wretched  situation,  (my  father's 
unkindness  having  almost  broken  my  heart,)  he  came  one 
day  into  my  room  with  more  anger  in  his  countenance 
than  I  had  ever  seen ;  and  after  bitterly  upbraiding  me 
with  my  undutiful  behaviour  both  to  himself  and  his 
worthy  consort,  he  bid  me  pack  up  my  all,  and  immedi- 
ately prepare  to  quit  his  house  ;  and  at  the  same  time 
gave  me  a  letter,  and  told  me  that  would  acquaint  me 
where  I  might  find  a  home  ;  adding,  that  he  doubted  not 
but  I  expected,  and  had  indeed  solicited  the  invitation  ; 
and  left  me  with  a  declaration  that  he  would  have  no 
spies  in  his  family. 


262  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  The  letter,  I  found  on  opening  it,  was  from  my 
father's  own  sister  ;  but  before  I  mention  the  contents, 
1  will  give  you  a  short  sketch  of  her  character,  as  it  was 
somewhat  particular.  Her  personal  charms  were  not 
great ;  for  she  was  very  tall,  very  thin,  and  very  homely. 
Of  the  defect  of  her  beauty,  she  was,  perhaps,  sensible  : 
her  vanity,  therefore,  retreated  into  her  mind,  where 
there  is  no  looking-glass,  and  consequently  where  we  can 
flatter  ourselves  with  discovering  almost  whatever  beau- 
ties we  please.  This  is  an  encouraging  circumstance  ; 
and  yet  I  have  observed,  dear  Mrs.  Booth,  that  few  wo- 
men ever  seek  these  comforts  from  within,  till  they  are 
driven  to  it  by  despair  of  finding  any  food  for  their  van- 
ity from  without.  Indeed,  I  believe,  the  first  wish  of  our 
whole  sex  is  to  be  handsome." 

Here  both  the  ladies  fixed  their  eyes  on  the  glass,  and 
both  smiled. 

"  My  aunt,  however,"  continued  Mrs.  Bennet,  "  from 
despair  of  gaining  any  applause  this  way,  had  applied  her- 
self entirely  to  the  contemplation  of  her  understanding, 
and  had  improved  this  to  such  a  pitch,  that  at  the  age  of 
fifty,  at  which  she  was  now  arrived,  she  had  contracted  a 
hearty  contempt  for  much  the  greater  part  of  both  sexes ; 
for  the  women  as  being  idiots,  and  for  the  men  as  the 
admirers  of  idiots.  That  word,  and  fool,  were  almost 
constantly  in  her  mouth,  and  were  bestowed  with  great 
liberality  among  all  her  acquaintance. 

"  This  lady  had  spent  one  day  only  at  my  father's 
house  in  near  two  years ;  it  was  about  a  month  before 
his  second  marriage.  At  her  departure,  she  took  occa- 
sion to  whisper  me  her  opinion  of  the  widow,  whom  she 
called  a  pretty  idiot,  and  wondered  how  her  brother 
could  bear  such  company  under  his  roof;  for  neither  she 
nor  I  had  at  that  time  any  suspicion  of  what  afterward 
happened. 

"  The  letter  which  my  father  had  just  received,  and 
which  was  the  first  she  had  sent  him  since  his  marriage, 
was  of  such  a  nature,  that  I  should  be  unjust  if  I  blamed 
him  for  being  ofl'ended  ;  fool  and  idiot  were  both  plenti- 
fully bestowed  in  it,  as  well  on  himself  as  on  his  wife. 
But  what,  perhaps,  had  principally  offended  him,  was 
that  part  which  related  to  me  ;  for,  after  nmch  panegyr- 
ic on  my  understanding,  and  saying  he  was  unworthy 
of  such  a  daughter,  she  considered  his  match  not  only  as 
the  highest  indiscretion,  as  it  related  to  himself,  but  as 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  263 

a  downright  act  of  injustice  to  me.  One  expression  in 
it  1  shall  never  forget :  '  You  have  placed,'  said  she,  '  a 
woman  above  your  daughter,  who,  in  understanding,  the 
only  valuable  gifi  of  nature,  is  the  lowest  in  the  whole 
class  of  pretty  idiots.'  After  much  more  of  this  kind,  it 
concluded  with  inviting  me  to  her-|jouse. 

"  I  can  truly  say,  that  when  I  had  read  the  letter,  I 
entirely  forgave  my  father's  suspicion,  that  I  had  made 
some  complaints  to  my  aunt  of  his  behaviour;  for, 
though  I  was  indeed  innocent,  there  was  surely  colour 
enough  to  suspect  the  contrary. 

"  Though  I  had  never  been  greatly  attached  to  my 
aunt,  nor,  indeed,  had  she  formerly  given  me  any  reason 
for  such  an  attachment,  yet  I  was  well  enough  pleased 
with  her  present  invitation.  To  say  the  truth,  I  led  so 
wretched  a  life  where  I  then  was,  that  it  was  impossible 
not  to  be  a  gainer  by  any  exchange. 

"  I  could  not,  however,  bear  the  thoughts  of  leaving 
my  father  with  an  impression  on  his  mind  against  me 
which  I  did  not  deserve.  I  endeavoured,  therefore,  to 
remove  all  his  suspicion  of  my  having  complained  to  my 
aunt  by  the  most  earnest  asseverations  of  my  innocence  ; 
but  they  were  all  to  no  purpose  :  all  my  tears,  all  my 
vows,  and  all  my  entreaties,  were  fruitless.  My  new 
mother,  indeed,  appeared  to  be  my  advocate ;  but  she 
acted  her  part  very  poorly  ;  and,  far  from  counterfeiting 
any  desire  of  succeeding  in  my  suit,  she  could  not  con- 
ceal the  excessive  joy  which  she  felt  on  the  occasion. 

"  Well,  madam,  the  next  day  I  departed  for  my  aunt's, 
where,  after  a  long  journey  of  forty  miles,  1  arrived, 
without  having  once  broken  my  fast  on  the  road;  for 
grief  is  as  capable  as  food  of  filling  the  stomach ;  and  I 
had  too  mucli  of  the  former  to  admit  any  of  the  latter. 
The  fatigue  of  my  journey,  and  the  agitation  of  my  mind, 
joined  to  my  fasting,  so  overpowered  my  spirits,  that 
when  I  was  taken  from  my  horse,  I  inmiediately  fainted 
away  in  the  arms  of  the  man  who  helped  me  from  my 
saddle.  My  aunt  expressed  great  astonishment  at  see- 
ing me  in  this  condition,  with  my  eyes  almost  swollen 
out  of  my  head  with  tears;  but  my  father's  letter,  which 
I  delivered  her  soon  after  I  came  to  myself,  pretty  well, 
I  believe,  cured  her  surprise.  She  often  smiled,  with  a 
mixture  of  contempt  and  anger,  while  she  was  reading 
it ;  and  having  pronounced  her  brother  to  be  a  fool,  she 


264  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

turned  to  me,  and  with  as  much  affability  as  possible^ 
(for  she  is  no  great  mistress  of  affability,)  said,  '  Don't  be 
uneasy,  dear  Molly,  for  you  have  come  to  the  house  of  a 
friend ;  of  one  who  has  sense  enough  to  discern  the  author 
of  all  the  mischief;  depend  upon  it,  child,  I  will,  ere  long, 
make  some  people  ashamed  of  their  folly.'  This  kind 
reception  gave  me  some  comfort,  my  aunt  assuring  me 
that  she  would  convince  him  how  unjustly  he  had  accused 
me  of  having  made  any  complaints  to  her.  A  paper  war 
was  now  begun  between  these  two,  which  not  only  fixed 
an  irreconcilable  hatred  between  them,  but  confirmed  my 
father's  displeasure  against  me,  and  in  the  end,  I  believe, 
did  me  no  service  with  my  aunt:  for  I  was  considered 
by  both  as  the  cause  of  their  dissension  ;  though,  in  fact, 
my  stepmother,  who  very  well  knew  the  affection  my 
aunt  had  for  her,  liad  long  since  done  her  business  with 
my  father  ;  and  as  for  my  aunt's  affection  towards  him, 
it  had  been  bating  several  years,  from  an  apprehension 
that  he  did  not  pay  sufficient  deference  to  her  under- 
standing. 

"  I  had  lived  about  half  a  year  with  my  aunt,  when  I 
heard  of  my  stepmother's  being  delivered  of  a  boy,  and 
the  great  joy  m3^  father  expressed  on  that  occasion  ;  but, 
poor  man,  he  Hved  not  long  to  enjoy  his  happiness;  for 
within  a  month  afterward  I  had  the  melancholy  news 
of  his  death. 

"  Notwithstanding  all  the  disobligations  I  had  lately 
received  from  him,  I  was  sincerely  afflicted  at  my  loss 
of  him.  All  his  kindness  to  me  in  my  infancy,  all  his 
kindness  to  m.e  while  1  was  growing  up,  recurred  to  my 
memory,  raised  a  thousand  tender,  melancholy  ideas, 
and  totally  obliterated  all  thoughts  of  his  latter  behav-*- 
lour,  for  which  1  made  also  every  allowance  and  every 
excuse  in  my  power. 

"  But  what  perhaps  may  appear  more  extraordinarj'j 
my  aunt  began  to  speak  of  him  with  concern.  She  said 
he  had  some  understanding  formerly,  though  his  passion 
for  that  vile  woman  had,  in  a  great  measure,  obscured 
it;  and  one  day,  when  she  was  in  an  ill  humour  with 
me,  she  had  the  cruelty  to  throw  out  a  hint,  that  she 
had  never  quarrelled  with  her  brother,  if  it  had  not  been 
on  my  account. 

"  My  father,  during  his  life,  had  allowed  my  aunt 
very  handsomely  for  my  board ;  for  generosity  was  too 
deeply  riveted  in  his  nature  to  be  plucked  out  by  all  the 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  265 

power  of  his  wife.  So  far,  however,  she  prevailed,  that, 
though  he  died  possessed  of  upwards  of  2000/.,  he  left 
me  no  more  than  100/.,  which,  as  he  expressed  in  his 
will,  was  to  set  me  up  in  some  business,  if  1  had  the 
grace  to  take  to  any. 

"  Hitherto  my  aunt  had,  in  general,  treated  me  with 
some  degree  of  affection ;  but  her  behaviour  began  now 
to  be  changed.  She  soon  took  an  opportunity  of  giving 
me  to  understand  that  her  fortune  was  insufficient  to 
keep  me  ;  and  as  I  could  not  live  on  the  interest  of  my 
own,  it  was  high  time  for  me  to  consider  about  going 
into  the  world.  She  added,  that  her  brother  having 
mentioned  my  setting  up  in  some  business  in  his  will, 
was  very  foolish ;  that  I  had  been  bred  to  nothing ; 
and,  besides,  that  the  sum  was  too  trifling  to  set  me  up 
in  any  way  of  reputation :  she  desired  me,  therefore, 
to  think  of  immediately  going  into  service. 

"  This  advice  was  perhaps  right  enough  ;  and  I  told 
her  I  was  ready  to  do  as  she  directed  me ;  but  I  was, 
at  that  time,  in  an  ill  state  of  health  :  I  desired  her, 
therefore,  to  let  me  stay  with  her  till  my  legacy,  which 
was  not  to  be  paid  till  a  year  after  my  father's  death, 
was  due ;  and  1  then  promised  to  satisfy  her  for  my 
board ;  to  which  she  readily  consented. 

"And  now,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Bennet,  sighing,  "I 
am  going  to  open  to  you  those  matters  which  lead  di- 
rectly to  that  great  catastrophe  of  my  life,  which  has 
occasioned  my  giving  you  this  trouble,  and  of  trying 
your  patience  in  this  manner." 

Amelia,  notwithstanding  her  impatience,  made  a  very 
civil  answer  to  this;  and  then  Mrs.  Bennet  proceeded 
to  relate  what  is  written  in  the  next  chapter. 


Chapter  IV. — Further  cGntmuation. 

"  The  curate  of  the  parish  where  my  aunt  dwelt  was 
a  young  fellow  of  about  four-and-twenty  :  he  had  been 
left  an  orphan  in  his  infancy,  and  entirely  unprovided 
for  ;  when  an  uncle  had  the  goodness  to  take  care  of  his 
education,  both  at  school  and  at  the  university.  As  the 
young  gentleman  was  intended  for  the  church,  his  uncle, 
though  he  had  two  daughters  of  his  own,  and  no  very 
large  fortune,  purchased  for  him  the  next  presentation 
23  M 


§66  THE    HISTORY    CF    AMELIA. 

of  a  living  of  near  200/.  a  year.  The  incumbent,  at  the 
time  of  the  purchase,  was  under  the  age  of  sixty,  and  in 
apparent  good  health;  notwithstanding  which,  he  died 
soon  after  the  bargain,  and  long  before  the  nephew  was 
capable  of  orders;  so  that  the  uncle  was  obliged  to  give 
the  living  to  a  clergyman,  to  hold  it  till  the  young  man 
came  of  proper  age. 

"The  young  gentleman  had  not  attained  his  proper 
age  of  taking  orders,  when  he  had  the  misfortune  to 
lose  his  uncle  and  only  friend ;  who,  thinking  he  had 
sufficiently  provided  for  his  nephew  by  the  purchase  of 
the  living,  considered  him  no  further  in  his  will,  but 
divided  all  the  fortune  of  which  he  died  possessed  be- 
tween his  two  daughters ;  recommending  it  to  them, 
however,  on  his  deathbed,  to  assist  their  cousin  with 
money  sufficient  to  keep  him  at  the  university  till  he 
should  be  capable  of  ordination. 

"But,  as  no  appointment  of  this  kind  was  in  the  will, 
the  young  ladies,  who  received  about  2000/.  each, 
thought  proper  to  disregard  the  last  words  of  their 
father;  for,  besides  that  both  of  them  were  extremely 
tenacious  of  their  money,  they  were  great  enemies  to 
their  cousin,  on  account  of  their  father's  kindness  to 
him  ;  and  thought  proper  to  let  him  know  that  they 
thought  he  had  robbed  them  of  too  much  already. 

"  The  poor  young  fellow  was  now  greatly  distressed  ; 
for  he  had  yet  above  a  year  to  stay  at  the  university, 
without  any  visible  means  of  sustaining  himself  there. 

"In  this  distress,  however,  he  met  with  a  friend,  who 
had  the  good-nature  to  lend  him  the  sum  of  twenty 
pounds,  for  which  he  only  accepted  his  bond  for  forty, 
and  which  was  to  be  paid  within  a  year  after  his  being 
possessed  of  his  living;  that  is,  within  a  year  after  his 
becoming  qualified  to  hold  it. 

"  With  this  small  sum  thus  hardly  obtained,  the  poor 
gentleman  made  a  shift  to  struggle  with  all  difficulties, 
till  he  became  of  due  age  to  take  upon  himself  the  char- 
acter of  a  deacon.  He  then  repaired  to  that  clergyman 
to  whom  his  uncle  had  given  the  living  upon  the  condi- 
tions above  mentioned,  to  procure  a  title  to  ordination  ; 
but  this,  to  his  great  surprise  and  mortification,  was  ab- 
solutely refused  him. 

"The  immediate  disappointment  did  not  hurt  him  so 
much  as  the  conclusion  he  drew  from  it ;  for  he  could 
have  but  little  hopes  that  the  man,  who  could  have  the 


THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA.  267 

cruelty  to  refuse  him  a  title,  would  vouchsafe  after- 
ward to  deliver  up  to  him  a  living  of  so  considerable  a 
value  ;  nor  v/as  it  long  before  this  worthy  incumbent 
told  him  plainly  that  he  valued  his  uncle's  favours  at 
too  high  a  rate  to  part  with  them  to  any  one :  nay,  he 
pretended  scruples  of  conscience,  and  said,  that  if  he 
had  made  any  slight  promises,  which  he  did  not  now 
well  remember,  they  were  v/icked  and  void ;  that  he 
looked  upon  himself  as  married  to  his  parish,  and  he 
could  no  more  give  it  up  than  he  could  give  up  his  wife 
without  sin. 

"  The  poor  young  fellow  was  now  obliged  to  seek  fur- 
ther for  a  title,  which,  at  length,  he  obtained  from  the 
rector  of  the  parish  where  my  aunt  lived. 

"  He  had  not  long  been  settled  in  the  curacy,  before 
an  intimate  acquaintance  grew  between  him  and  my 
aunt ;  for  she  was  a  great  admirer  of  the  clergy,  and 
used  frequently  to  say  they  were  the  only  conversable 
creatures  in  the  country. 

"  The  first  time  she  was  in  this  gentleman's  company 
was  at  a  neighbour's  christening,  where  she  stood  god- 
mother. Here  she  displayed  her  whole  little  stock  of 
knowledge,  in  order  to  captivate  Mr.  Bennet ;  (I  suppose, 
madam,  you  already  guess  that  to  have  been  his  name  ;) 
and,  before  they  parted,  gave  him  a  very  strong  invita- 
tion to  her  house. 

"  Not  a  word  passed  at  this  christening  between  Mr. 
Bennet  and  myself  ;  but  our  eyes  were  not  unemployed. 
Here,  madam,  I  first  felt  a  pleasing  kind  of  confusion, 
which  I  know  not  how  to  describe.  I  felt  a  kind  of 
uneasiness  ;  yet  did  not  wish  to  be  without  it.  I  longed 
to  be  alone  ;  yet  dreaded  the  hour  of  parting.  I  could 
not  keep  my  eyes  off*  from  the  object  which  caused  my 
confusion,  and  which  I  was  at  once  afraid  of  and  en- 
amoured with.  But  why  do  I  attempt  to  describe  my 
situation  to  one  who  must,  I  am  sure,  have  felt  the 
same  1" 

Amelia  smiled,  and  Mrs.  Bennet  went  on  thus :  "  Oh, 
Mrs.  Booth  !  had  you  seen  the  person  of  whom  I  am 
now  speaking,  you  would  not  condemn  the  suddenness 
of  my  love.  Nay,  indeed,  I  had  seen  him  there  before, 
though  this  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  heard  the  music 
of  his  voice.  Oh  !  it  was  the  sweetest  that  was  ever 
heard. 
"  Mr.  Bennet  came  to  visit  my  aunt  the  very  next 
M3 


^68  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

day.  She  imputed  this  respectful  haste  to  the  powerful 
charms  of  her  understanding,  and  resolved  to  lose  no 
opportunity  in  improving  the  opinion  which  she  imagined 
he  had  conceived  of  her.  She  became  by  this  desire 
quite  ridiculous,  and  ran  into  absurdities  and  gaUimatias 
scarce  credible. 

"  Mr.  Bennet,  as  I  afterward  found,  saw  her  in  the 
same  light  with  myself;  but,  as  he  was  a  very  sensible 
and  well-bred  man,  he  so  well  concealed  his  opinion 
from  us  both  that  I  was  almost  angry,  and  she  was 
pleased  even  to  raptures,  declaring  herself  charmed  with 
his  understanding,  though,  indeed,  he  had  said  very 
little  ;  but  I  beUeve  he  heard  himself  into  her  good  opin- 
ion, while  he  gazed  himself  into  love. 

"  The  first  two  visits  which  Mr.  Bennet  made  to  my 
aunt,  though  I  was  in  the  room  all  the  time,  I  never 
spoke  a  word  ;  but  on  the  third,  on  some  argument  which 
arose  between  them,  Mr.  Bennet  referred  himself  to  me. 
I  took  his  side  of  the  question,  as  indeed  I  must  to  have 
done  justice,  and  repeated  two  or  three  words  of  Latin. 
My  aunt  reddened  at  this,  and  expressed  great  disdain  of 
my  opinion,  declaring  she  was  astonished  that  a  man  of 
Mr.  Bennet's  understanding  could  appeal  to  the  judg- 
ment of  a  silly  girl.  '  Is  she,'  said  my  aunt,  bridling  her- 
self, '  fit  to  decide  between  us  V  Mr.  Bennet  spoke  very 
favourably  of  what  I  had  said,  upon  which  my  aunt  burst 
almost  into  a  rage,  treated  me  with  downright  scurrility, 
called  me  conceited  fool,  abused  my  poor  father  for  hav- 
ing taught  me  Latin,  which  she  said  had  made  me  a 
do'wnright  coxcomb,  and  made  me  prefer  myself  to  those 
who  were  a  hundred  times  my  superiors  in  knowledge. 
She  then  fell  foul  on  the  learned  languages,  declarmg 
they  were  totally  useless;  and  concluded  that  she  had 
read  all  that  was  worth  reading,  though,  she  thanked 
Heaven,  she  understood  no  language  but  her  own. 

"  Before  the  end  of  this  visit,  Mr.  Bennet  reconciled 
himself  very  well  to  my  aunt,  which,  indeed,  was  no 
difficult  task  for  him  to  accomplish;  but  from  that  hour 
she  conceived  a  hatred  and  rancour  towards  me  which 
I  could  never  appease. 

"  My  aunt  had,  from  my  first  coming  into  her  house, 
expressed  great  dislike  to  my  learning  ;  in  plain  truth, 
she  envied  me  that  advantage.  This  envy  1  had  long 
ago  discovered,  and  had  taken  great  pains  to  smother  it, 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  269 

carefully  avoiding  ever  to  mention  a  Latin  word  in  her 
presence,  and  always  submitting  to  her  authority;  for 
indeed  I  despised  her  ignorance  too  much  to  dispute 
with  her.  By  these  means  I  had  pretty  well  succeeded, 
and  we  hved  tolerably  together  ;  but  the  affront  paid  to 
her  understanding  by  Mr.  Bennet  in  my  favour  was  an 
injury  never  to  be  forgiven  to  me.  She  took  me  se- 
verely to  task  that  very  evening,  and  reminded  me  of 
going  to  service  in  such  earnest  terms  as  almost 
amounted  to  literally  turning  me  out  of  doors  ;  advising 
me  in  the  most  insulting  manner  to  keep  my  Latin  to 
myself,  which  she  said  was  useless  to  any  one,  but  ri- 
diculous when  pretended  to  by  a  servant. 

"  The  next  visit  Mr.  Bennet  made  at  our  house  I  was 
not  suffered  to  be  present.  This  was  much  the  short- 
est of  all  his  visits  ;  and  when  he  went  away,  he  left  my 
aunt  in  a  worse  humour  than  ever  I  had  seen  her.  The 
whole  was  discharged  on  me  in  the  usual  manner,  by 
upbraiding  me  with  my  learning,  conceit,  and  poverty ; 
reminding  me  of  obligations,  and  insisting  on  my  going 
immediately  to  service.  With  all  this  1  was  greatly 
pleased,  as  it  assured  me  that  Mr.  Bennet  had  said  some- 
thing to  her  in  my  favour ;  and  I  would  have  purchased 
a  kind  expression  of  his  at  almost  any  price. 

*'  I  should  scarce,  however,  have  been  so  sanguine  as 
to  draw  this  conclusion,  had  I  not  received  some  hints 
that  I  had  not  unhappily  placed  my  affections  on  a  man 
who  made  me  no  return  ;  for  though  he  had  scarce  ad- 
dressed a  dozen  sentences  to  me,  (for,  indeed,  he  had 
no  opportunity,)  yet  his  eyes  had  revealed  certain  se- 
crets to  mine  with  which  1  was  not  displeased. 

"  I  remained,  however,  in  a  state  of  anxiety  near  a 
month ;  sometimes  pleasing  myself  with  thinking  Mr. 
Bennet's  heart  was  in  the  same  situation  with  my  own ; 
sometimes  doubting  that  my  wishes  had  flattered  and 
deceived  me,  and  not  in  the  least  questioning  that  my 
aunt  was  my  rival ;  for  I  thought  no  woman  could  be 
proof  against  the  charms  that  had  subdued  me.  Indeed, 
Mrs.  Booth,  he  was  a  charming  young  fellow :  I  must, 
I  must  pay  this  tribute  to  his  memory.  Oh,  gracious 
Heaven !  why,  why  did  I  ever  see  him  1  why  was  I 
doomed  to  such  misery  V*  Here  she  burst  into  a  flood 
of  tears,  and  remained  incapable  of  speech  for  some 
time,  during  which  the  gentle  Amelia  endeavoured  all 
23* 


270  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

she  could  to  sooth  her,  and  ^ave  sufficient  marks  of 
sympathizing  in  the  tender  affliction  of  her  friend. 

Mrs.  Bennet  at  length  recovered  her  spirits,  and  pro- 
ceeded as  in  the  next  chapter. 


Chapter  V.  —The  story  of  Mrs.  Bennet  continued. 

"  I  SCARCE  know  where  I  left  off*— oh,  I  was,  I  think, 
telling  you  that  I  esteemed  my  aunt  as  my  rival ;  and  it 
is  not  easy  to  conceive  a  greater  degree  of  detestation 
than  I  had  for  her ;  and,  what  may  perhaps  appear 
strange,  as  she  daily  grew  more  and  more  civil  to  me, 
my  hatred  increased  with  her  civility;  for  I  imputed  it 
all  to  her  triumph  over  me,  and  to  her  having  secured, 
beyond  all  apprehension,  the  heart  I  longed  for. 

"  How  was  I  surprised  when  one  day,  with  as  much 
good-humour  as  she  was  mistress  of,  (for  her  counte- 
nance was  not  very  pleasing,)  she  asked  me  how  I  liked 
Mr.  Bennet.  The  question,  you  will  believe,  madam, 
threw  me  into  great  confusion,  which  she  plainly  per- 
ceived, and,  without  waiting  for  my  answer,  told  me  she 
was  very  well  satisfied,  for  that  it  did  not  require  her 
discernment  to  read  my  thoughts  in  my  countenance. 
*  Well,  child,'  said  she,  '  I  have  suspected  this  a  great 
while,  and  I  believe  it  will  please  you  to  know  that  I 
yesterday  made  the  same  discovery  in  your  lover.' 
This,  I  confess  to  you,  was  more  than  I  could  well  bear, 
and  I  begged  her  to  say  no  more  to  me  at  that  time  on 
that  subject.  '  Nay,  child,'  answered  she, '  I  must  tell 
you  all,  or  I  should  not  act  a  friendly  part.  Mr.  Bennet, 
I  am  convinced,  has  a  passion  for  you  ;  but  it  is  a  pas- 
sion which  I  think  you  should  not  encourage  ;  for,  to  be 
plain  with  you,  I  fear  he  is  in  love  with  your  person  only. 
Now  this  is  a  love,  child,  which  cannot  produce  that  ra- 
tional happiness  which  a  woman  of  sense  ought  to  ex- 
pect.' In  short,  she  ran  on  with  a  great  deal  of  stuff 
about  rational  happiness  and  women  of  sense,  and  con- 
cluded with  assuring  me  that,  after  the  strictest  scrutiny, 
she  could  not  find  that  Mr.  Bennet  had  an  adequate  opin- 
ion of  my  understanding ;  upon  which  she  vouchsafed 
to  make  me  many  compliments,  but  mixed  with  several 
sarcasms  concerning  my  learning. 

"  I  hope,  madam,  however,"  said  she  to  Amelia,  "  you 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  271 

have  not  so  bad  an  opinion  of  my  capacity,  as  to  im- 
agine me  dull  enough  to  be  offended  with  Mr.  Bennet's 
sentiments,  for  which  I  presently  knew  so  well  to  ac- 
count. I  was,  indeed,  charmed  with  his  ingenuity, 
who  had  discovered,  perhaps,  the  only  way  of  recon- 
ciling my  aunt  to  those  inclinations,  which  I  now  as- 
sured myself  he  had  for  me. 

"  I  was  not  long  left  to  support  my  hopes  by  my  sa- 
gacity. He  soon  found  an  opportunity  of  declaring  his 
passion.  He  did  this  in  so  forcible,  though  gentle  a 
manner,  with  such  a  profusion  of  fervency  and  tender- 
ness at  once,  that  his  love,  like  a  torrent,  bore  every- 
thing before  it ;  and  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  own  to 
you,  how  very  soon  he  prevailed  upon  me  to — to — in 
short,  to  be  an  honest  woman,  and  to  confess  to  him 
the  plain  truth. 

"  When  we  were  upon  a  good  footing  together,  he 
gave  me  a  long  relation  of  what  had  passed  at  several 
interviews  with  my  aunt,  at  which  I  had  not  been 
present.  He  said  he  had  discovered,  that  as  she  valued 
herself  chiefly  on  her  understanding,  so  she  was  ex- 
tremely jealous  of  mine,  and  hated  me  on  account  of 
my  learning:  that,  as  he  had  loved  me  passionately 
from  his  first  seeing  me,  and  had  thought  of  nothing 
from  that  time  but  of  throwing  himself  at  my  feet,  he 
saw  no  way  so  open  to  propitiate  my  aunt  as  that 
which  he  had  taken,  by  commending  my  beauty  (a  per- 
fection to  which  she  had  long  resigned  all  claim)  at  the 
expense  of  my  understanding,  in  which  he  lamented  my 
deficiency  to  a  degree  almost  of  ridicule.  This  he 
imputed  chiefly  to  my  learning:  on  this  occasion  he 
advanced  a  sentiment  which  so  pleased  my  aunt,  that 
she  thought  proper  to  make  it  her  own  ;  for  I  heard  it 
afterward,  more  than  once,  from  her  own  mouth. 
Learning,  he  said,  had  the  same  effect  on  the  mind  that 
strong  liquors  have  on  the  constitution  ;  both  tending  to 
eradicate  all  our  natural  fire  and  energy.  His  flattery 
had  made  such  a  dupe  of  my  aunt,  that  she  assented, 
without  the  least  suspicion  of  his  sincerity,  to  all  he 
said ;  so  sure  is  vanity  to  weaken  every  fortress  of  the 
understanding,  and  to  betray  us  to  every  attack  of  the 
enemy. 

"  You  will  believe,  madam,  that  I  readily  forgave  him 
all  he  had  said,  not  only  from  that  motive  which  I  have 
mentioned,  but  as  I  was  assured  he  had  spoken  the  re- 


%12  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA, 

verse  of  his  real  sentiments.  I  was  not,  however, 
quite  so  well  pleased  with  my  aunt,  who  began  to  treat 
me  as  if  I  was  really  an  idiot.  Her  contempt,  I  own,  a 
little  piqued  me ;  and  1  could  not  help  often  expressing 
iny  resentment,  when  we  were  alone  together,  to  Mr. 
Bennet,  who  never  failed  to  gratify  me,  by  making  her 
conceit  the  subject  of  his  wit ;  a  talent  which  he  pos- 
sessed in  the  most  extraordinary  degree. 

"  This  proved  of  very  fatal  consequence  ;  for  one 
day,  while  we  were  enjoying  ourselves  in  a  very  thick 
arbour  in  the  garden,  my  aunt  stole  on  us  unobserved, 
and  overheard  our  whole  conversation.  I  wish,  my 
dear,  you  understood  Latin,  that  I  might  repeat  you  a 
sentence,  in  which  the  rage  of  a  tigress  that  has  lost 
her  young  is  described :  no  English  poet,  as  I  remem- 
ber, has  come  up  to  it ;  nor  am  I  myself  equal  to  the 
undertaking.  She  burst  in  upon  us,  open-mouthed,  and, 
after  discharging  every  abusive  word  almost  in  the  only 
language  she  understood  on  poor  Mr.  Bennet,  turned  us 
both  out  of  doors ;  declaring  she  would  send  my  rags 
after  me,  but  would  never  more  permit  me  to  set  my 
foot  within  her  threshold. 

"  Consider,  dear  madam,  to  what  a  wretched  con- 
dition we  were  now  reduced.  I  had  not  yet  received  the 
small  legacy  left  me  by  my  father ;  nor  was  Mr.  Ben- 
net master  of  five  pounds  in  the  whole  world, 

"  In  this  situation,  the  man  I  doted  on  to  distraction 
had  but  little  difficulty  to  persuade  me  to  a  proposal, 
which,  indeed,  I  thought  generous  in  him  to  make,  as  it 
seemed  to  proceed  from  that  tenderness  for  my  reputa- 
tion, to  which  he  ascribed  it;  indeed,  it  could  proceed 
from  no  motive  with  which  I  should  have  been  dis- 
pleased. In  a  word,  within  two  days  we  were  man  and 
wife. 

"  Mr.  Bennet  now  declared  himself  the  happiest  of 
men ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  sincerely  declare  I  envied  no 
woman  on  earth.  How  little,  alas  !  did  I  then  know, 
or  suspect,  the  price  I  was  to  pay  for  all  my  joys  !  A 
match  of  real  love  is,  indeed,  truly  paradise ;  and  such 
perfect  happiness  seems  to  be  the  forbidden  fruit  to 
mortals,  which  we  are  to  lament  having  tasted  during 
the  rest  of  our  lives. 

"  The  first  uneasiness  which  attacked  us  after  our 
marriage  was  on  my  aunt's  account.  It  was  very  disa- 
greeable to  hve  under  the  nose  of  so  near  a  relation. 


THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA.  273 

who  did  not  acknowledge  us,  but,  on  the  contrary,  was 
ever  doing  us  all  the  ill  turns  in  her  power,  and  making 
a  party  against  us  in  the  parish;  which  is  always  c^sy 
enough  to  do  among  the  vulgar,  against  persons  who  are 
their  superiors  in  rank,  and,  at  the  same  time,  their 
inferiors  in  fortune.  This  made  Mr.  Bennet  think  of 
procuring  an  exchange,  in  which  intention  he  was  soon 
after  confirmed  by  the  arrival  of  the  rector.  It  was  the 
rector's  custom  to  spend  three  months  every  year  at  his 
living ;  for  which  purpose  he  reserved  an  apartment  in 
his  parsonage-house,  which  was  full  large  enough  for 
two  such  little  families  as  then  occupied  it :  we  at  first 
promised  ourselves  some  little  convenience  from  his 
boarding  with  us ;  and  Mr.  Bennet  began  to  lay  aside 
his  thoughts  of  leaving  his  curacy,  at  least  for  some 
time.  But  these  golden  ideas  presently  vanished  ;  for, 
though  we  both  used  our  utmost  endeavours  to  please 
him,  we  soon  found  the  impossibility  of  succeeding. 
He  was,  indeed,  to  give  you  his  character  in  a  word,  the 
most  peevish  of  mortals.  This  temper,  notwithstanding 
that  he  was  both  a  good  and  a  pious  man,  made  his 
company  so  insufferable,  that  nothing  could  compensate 
it.  If  his  breakfast  was  not  ready  to  a  moment;  if  a 
dish  of  meat  was  too  much  or  too  little  done ;  in  short, 
if  anything  failed  of  exactly  hitting  his  taste,  he  was 
sure  to  be  out  of  humour  all  that  day  ;  so  that,  indeed, 
he  was  scarce  ever  in  a  good  temper  the  whole  day  to- 
gether ;  for  Fortune  seems  to  take  a  delight  in  thwarting 
this  kind  of  disposition,  to  which  human  life,  with  its 
many  crosses  and  accidents,  is,  in  truth,  by  no  means 
fitted. 

"  Mr.  Bennet  was  now,  by  my  desire,  as  well  as  his 
own,  determined  to  quit  the  parish ;  but,  when  he  at- 
tempted to  get  an  exchange,  he  found  it  a  matter  of 
more  difficulty  than  he  had  apprehended ;  for  the  rec- 
tor's temper  was  so  well  known  among  the  neighbour- 
ing clergy,  that  none  of  them  could  be  brought  to  think 
of  spending  three  months  in  the  year  with  him. 

"  After  many  fruitless  inquiries,  Mr.  Bennet  thought 
best  to  remove  to  London,  the  great  mart  of  all  affairs 
ecclesiastical  and  civil.  This  project  greatly  pleased 
him,  and  he  resolved,  without  more  delay,  to  take  his 
leave  of  the  rector,  which  he  did  in  the  most  friendly 
manner  possible,  and  preached  his  farewell  sermon; 
nor  was  there  a  dry  eye  in  the  church,  except  among 
M3 


274  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

the  few  whom  my  aunt,  who  remained  still  inexorable, 
had  prevailed  upon  to  hate  us  without  any  cause. 

"  To  London  we  came,  and  took  up  our  lodging  the 
first  night  at  the  inn  where  the  stagecoach  set  us  down  : 
the  next  morning  my  husband  went  out  early  on  his 
business,  and  returned  with  the  good  news  of  having 
heard  of  a  curacy,  and  of  having  equipped  himself  with 
a  lodging  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  worthy  peer,  who, 
said  he,  was  my  fellow-collegiate  ;  and,  what  is  more, 
J  have  a  direction  to  a  person  who  will  advance  your 
legacy  at  a  very  reasonable  rate. 

'*This  last  particular  was  extremely  agreeable  to  me, 
for  our  last  guinea  was  now  broached,  and  the  rector 
had  lent  my  husband  ten  pounds  to  pay  his  debts  in 
the  country ;  for,  with  all  his  peevishness,  he  was  a 
good  and  a  generous  man,  and  had  indeed  so  many  val- 
uable qualities,  that  I  lamented  his  temper,  after  I 
knew  him  thoroughly,  as  much  on  his  account  as  on  my 
own. 

"  We  now  quitted  the  inn  and  went  to  our  lodgings, 
where  my  husband  having  placed  me  in  safety,  as  he 
said,  he  went  about  the  business  of  the  legacy,  with 
good  assurance  of  success. 

"  My  husband  returned  elated  with  his  success,  the 
person  to  whom  he  applied  having  undertaken  to  advance 
the  legacy,  which  he  fulfilled  as  soon  as  the  proper  in- 
quiries could  be  made,  and  proper  instruments  prepared 
for  that  purpose. 

"  This,  however,  took  up  so  much  time,  that,  as  our 
fund  was  so  very  low,  we  were  reduced  to  some  dis- 
tress, and  obliged  to  live  extremely  penurious;  nor 
would  all  do,  without  my  taking  a  most  disagreea- 
ble way  of  procuring  money,  by  pawning  one  of  my 
gowns. 

"  Mr.  Bennet  was  now  settled  in  a  curacy  in  town, 
greatly  to  his  satisfaction,  and  our  affairs  seemed  to 
have  a  prosperous  aspect,  when  he  came  home  to  me 
one  morning  in  much  apparent  disorder,  looking  as  pale 
as  death,  and  begged  me,  by  some  means  or  other,  to  get 
him  a  dram;  for  that  he  was  taken  with  a  sudden  faint- 
iiess  and  lowness  of  spirits. 

"  Frightened  as  I  was,  I  immediately  ran  down  stairs, 
and  procured  some  rum  of  the  mistress  of  the  house ; 
the  first  time,  indeed,  I  ever  knew  him  drink  any.  When 
he  came  to  himself,  he  begged  me  not  to  be  alarmed  j 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  275 

for  it  was  no  distemper,  but  something  that  had  vexed 
him,  which  had  caused  his  disorder,  which  he  had  now 
perfectly  recovered. 

"  He  then  told  me  the  whole  affair.  He  had  hitherto 
deferred  paying  a  visit  to  the  lord  whom  I  mentioned 
to  have  been  formerly  his  fellow-collegiate,  and  was 
now  his  neighbour,  till  he  could  put  himself  in  decent 
rigging.  He  had  now  purchased  a  new  cassock,  hat, 
and  wig,  and  went  to  pay  his  respects  to  his  old  ac- 
quaintance, who  had  received  from  him  many  civihties 
and  assistances  in  his  learning  at  the  university,  and  had 
promised  to  return  them  fourfold  hereafter. 

"  It  was  not  without  some  difficulty  that  Mr.  Bennet 
got  into  the  antechamber :  here  he  waited,  or,  as  the 
phrase  is,  cooled  his  heels,  for  above  an  hour,  before  he 
saw  his  lordship,  nor  had  he  seen  him  then,  but  by  an 
accident ;  for  my  lord  was  going  out,  when  he  casually 
intercepted  him  in  his  passage  to  his  chariot.  He  ap- 
proached to  salute  him  with  some  familiarity,  though 
with  respect,  depending  on  his  former  intimacy,  when 
my  lord,  stopping  short,  very  gravely  told  him  he  had 
not  the  pleasure  of  knowing  him.  '  How  !  my  lord,'  said 
he,  '  can  you  have  so  soon  forgot  your  old  acquaintance 
Tom  Bennet  ]'  '  Oh,  Mr.  Bennet !'  cries  his  lordship,  with 
much  reserve,  '  is  it  you  1  You  will  pardon  my  mem- 
ory. I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Bennet;  but  you  must 
excuse  me  at  present,  for  1  am  in  very  great  haste.' 
He  then  broke  from  him,  and  without  more  ceremony, 
or  any  further  invitation,  went  directly  into  his  chariot. 

"  This  cold  reception  from  a  person  for  whom  my 
husband  had  a  real  friendship,  and  from  whom  he  had 
great  reason  to  expect  a  very  warm  return  of  affection, 
so  affected  the  poor  man,  that  it  caused  all  those  symp- 
toms which  I  have  mentioned  before. 

"  Though  this  incident  produced  no  material  conse- 
quence, 1  could  not  pass  it  over  in  silence,  as  of  all 
the  misfortunes  which  ever  befell  him,  it  affected  my 
husband  the  most.  I  need  not,  however,  to  a  woman 
of  your  delicacy,  make  any  comments  on  a  behaviour 
which,  though  I  believe  it  is  very  common,  is  never- 
theless cruel  and  base  beyond  description ;  and  is  dia- 
metrically opposite  to  true  honour,  as  well  as  to  good- 
ness. 

"  To  relieve  the  uneasiness  which  my  husband  felt 
on  account  of  his  false  friend,  I  prevailed  with  him  to  go 


276  TTTE  -HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

every  night,  almost  for  a  fortnight  together,  to  the  play ; 
a  diversion  of  which  he  was  greatly  fond,  and  from  which 
he  did  not  think  his  being  a  clergyman  excluded  him. 
Indeed,  it  is  very  well  if  those  austere  persons  who 
would  be  inclined  to  censure  him  on  this  head,  have  no 
greater  sins  themselves  to  answer  for. 

"  From  this  time,  during  three  months,  we  passed 
our  time  very  agreeably — a  little  too  agreeably,  per- 
haps, for  our  circumstances;  for  however  innocent 
diversions  may  be  in  other  respects,  they  must  be 
owned  to  be  expensive.  When  you  consider  then, 
madam,  that  our  income  from  the  curacy  was  less  than 
forty  pounds  a  year,  and  that,  after  payment  of  the 
debt  to  the  rector,  and  another  to  my  aunt,  with  the 
costs  in  law  which  she  had  occasioned  by  suing  for  it, 
my  legacy  was  reduced  to  less  than  seventy  pounds,  you 
will  not  wonder  that  in  diversions,  clothes,  and  the  com- 
mon expenses  of  life,  we  had  almost  consumed  our 
whole  stock. 

"  The  inconsiderate  manner  in  which  we  had  lived 
for  some  time  will,  I  doubt  not,  appear  to  you  to  want 
some  excuse ;  but  I  have  none  to  make  for  it.  Two 
things,  however,  now  happened,  which  occasioned  much 
serious  reflection  to  Mr.  Bennet ;  the  one  was,  that  I 
grew  near  my  time  ;  the  other,  that  he  now  received  a 
letter  from  Oxford,  demanding  the  debt  of  forty  pounds, 
which  I  mentioned  to  you  before.  The  former  of  these 
he  made  a  pretence  of  obtaining  a  delay  for  the  payment 
of  the  latter,  promising  in  two  months  to  pay  off  half 
the  debt,  by  which  means  he  obtained  a  forbearance  du- 
ring that  time. 

"  I  was  now  delivered  of  a  son,  a  matter  which 
should,  in  reality,  have  increased  our  concern ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  it  gave  us  great  pleasure ;  greater  indeed 
could  not  have  been  conceived  at  the  birth  of  an  heir 
to  the  most  plentiful  estate  :  so  entirely  thoughtless 
were  we,  and  so  little  forecast  had  we  of  those  many 
evils  and  distresses  to  which  we  had  rendered  a  human 
creature,  and  one  so  dear  to  us,  liable.  The  day  of 
christening  is,  in  all  families,  I  believe,  a  day  of  ju- 
bilee and  rejoicing;  and  yet,  if  we  consider  the  interest 
of  that  little  wretch  who  is  the  occasion,  how  very  lit- 
tle reason  would  the  most  sanguine  persons  have  for 
their  joy  ! 

"  But,  though  our  eyes  were  too  weak  to  look  for- 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  277 

ward  for  the  sake  of  our  child,  we  could  not  be  blinded 
to  those  dangers  that  immediately  threatened  our- 
selves. Mr.  Bennet,  at  the  expiration  of  the  two 
months,  received  a  second  letter  from  Oxford,  in  a 
very  peremptory  style,  and  threatening"  a  suit  without 
any  further  delay.  This  alarmed  us  in  the  strongest 
manner ;  and  my  husband,  to  secure  his  liberty,  was 
advised,  for  a  while,  to  shelter  himself  in  the  verge  of 
the  court. 

"And  now,  madam,  I  am  entering  on  that  scene 
which  directly  leads  to  all  my  misery."  Here  she 
stopped,  and  wiped  her  eyes ;  and  then,  begging  Ame- 
lia to  excuse  her  for  a  few  minutes,  ran  hastily  out  of 
the  room,  leaving  Amelia  by  herself,  while  she  refreshed 
her  spirits  with  a  cordial,  to  enable  her  to  relate  what 
follows  in  the  next  chapter. 


Chapter  VI. — Further  continued. 

Mrs.  Bennet,  returning  into  the  room,  made  a  short 
apology  for  her  absence,  and  then  proceeded  in  these 
words  : — 

"  We  now  left  our  lodgings,  and  took  a  second  floor 
in  that  very  house  where  you  now  are  ;  to  which  we 
were  recommended  by  the  woman  where  we  had  before 
lodged,  for  the  mistresses  of  both  houses  were  ac- 
quainted ;  and,  indeed,  we  had  been  all  at  the  play  to- 
gether. To  this  new  lodging,  then,  (such  was  our 
wretched  destiny,)  we  immediately  repaired,  and  were 
received  by  Mrs.  Ellison  (how  can  1  bear  the  sound  of 
that  detested  name  !)  with  much  civility  :  she  took  care, 
however,  during  the  first  fortnight  of  our  residence,  to 
wait  upon  us  every  Monday  morning  for  her  rent ;  such 
being,  it  seems,  the  custom  of  this  place,  which,  as  it 
was  inhabited  chiefly  by  persons  in  debt,  is  not  the  re- 
gion of  credit. 

"  My  husband,  by  the  singular  goodness  of  the  rector, 
who  greatly  compassionated  his  case,  was  enabled  to 
continue  in  his  curacy,  though  he  could  only  do  the 
duty  on  Sundays.  He  was,  however,  sometimes  obliged 
to  furnish  a  person  to  officiate  at  his  expense;  so  that 
our  income  was  very  scanty,  and  the  poor  little  remain- 
der of  the  legacy  being  almost  spent,  we  were  reduced 
24 


"278  THE   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

to  some  difficulties,  and,  what  was  worse,  saw  still  a 
prospect  of  greater  before  our  eyes. 

"  Under  these  circumstances,  how  agreeable  to  poor 
Mr.  Bennet  must  have  been  the  behaviour  of  Mrs.  Elli- 
son, who,  when  he  carried  her  her  rent  on  the  usual  day, 
told  him,  with  a  benevolent  smile,  that  he  needed  not  to 
give  himself  the  trouble  of  such  exact  punctuality ! 
She  added,  that  if  it  was  at  any  time  inconvenient  to 
him,  he  might  pay  her  when  he  pleased.  '  To  say  the 
truth,'  says  she,  '  I  never  was  so  much  pleased  with  any 
lodgers  in  my  life.  I  am  convinced,  Mr.  Bennet,  you 
are  a  very  worthy  man,  and  you  are  a  very  happy  one 
too ;  for  you  have  the  prettiest  wife  and  the  prettiest 
child  I  ever  saw.'  These,  dear  madam,  were  the  words 
she  was  pleased  to  make  use  of ;  and  I  am  sure  she  be- 
haved to  me  with  such  an  appearance  of  friendship  and 
affection,  that,  as  I  could  not  perceive  any  possible  views 
of  interest  which  she  could  have  in  her  professions,  I 
easily  believed  them  real. 

'•  There  lodged  in  the  same  house — oh,  Mrs.  Booth  ! 
the  blood  runs  cold  to  my  heart,  and  should  run  cold  to 
yours  when  I  name  him — there  lodged  in  the  same 
house  a  lord — the  lord,  indeed,  whom  I  have  since  seen 
in  your  company.  This  lord,  Mrs.  Ellison  told  me,  had 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  my  little  Charly  :  fool  that  1  was, 
and  blinded  by  my  own  passion,  which  made  me  con- 
ceive that  an  infant  not  three  months  old  could  be  really 
the  object  of  affection  to  any  besides  a  parent ;  and 
more  especially  to  a  gay  young  fellow  !  But  if  I  was 
silly  in  being  deceived,  how  wicked  was  the  wretch  who 
deceived  me  ;  who  used  such  art,  and  employed  such 
pains,  such  incredible  pains,  to  deceive  me  !  He  acted 
the  part  of  a  nurse  to  my  little  infant;  he  danced  it,  he 
lulled  it,  he  kissed  it ;  declared  it  was  the  very  picture 
of  a  nephew  of  his,  his  favourite  sister's  child  ;  and  said 
so  many  kind  and  fond  things  of  its  beauty,  that  I  my- 
self, though,  I  believe,  one  of  the  tenderest  and  fondest 
of  mothers,  scarce  carried  my  own  ideas  of  my  little 
darling's  perfection  beyond  the  compliments  which  he 
paid  it. 

"  My  lord,  however,  perhaps  from  modesty  before  my 
face,  fell  far  short  of  what  Mrs.  Ellison  reported  from 
him.  And  now,  when  she  found  the  impression  which 
was  made  on  me  by  these  means,  she  took  every  oppor- 
tunity of  insinuating  to  me  his  lordship's  many  virtues, 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  279 

his  great  goodness  to  his  sister's  children  in  particular ; 
nor  did  she  fail  to  drop  some  hints,  which  gave  me  the 
most  simple  and  groundless  hopes  of  strange  conse- 
quences from  his  fondness  to  my  Charly. 

"  When  by  these  means  (which,  simple  as  they  may 
appear,  were,  perhaps,  the  most  artful)  my  lord  had 
gained  something  more,  I  think,  than  my  esteem,  he 
took  the  surest  method  to  confirm  himself  in  my  affec- 
tion. This  was,  by  professing  the  highest  friendship 
for  my  husband ;  for,  as  to  myself,  I  do  assure  you,  he 
never  showed  me  more  than  common  respect ;  and  I 
hope  you  will  believe,  I  should  have  immediately  startled 
and  flown  off  if  he  had.  Poor  I  accounted  for  all  the 
friendship  which  he  expressed  for  my  husband,  and  all 
the  fondness  which  he  showed  to  my  boy,  from  the 
great  prettiness  of  the  one,  and  the  great  merit  of  the 
other ;  foolishly  conceiving,  that  others  saw  with  my 
eyes  and  felt  with  my  heart.  Little  did  I  dream  that 
my  own  unfortunate  person  was  the  fountain  of  all  this 
lord's  goodness,  and  was  the  intended  price  of  it. 

"  One  evening,  as  I  was  drinking  tea  with  Mrs.  Elli- 
son by  my  lord's  fire,  (a  liberty  which  she  never  scru- 
pled taking  when  he  was  gone  out,)  my  little  Charly, 
now  about  half  a  year  old,  sitting  in  her  lap,  my  lord 
accidentally,  no  doubt,  indeed  I  then  thought  it  so,  came 
in.  I  was  confounded,  and  offered  to  go  ;  but  my  lord 
declared,  if  he  disturbed  Mrs.  EUison's  company,  as  he 
phrased  it,  he  would  himself  leave  the  room.  When  I 
was  thus  prevailed  on  to  keep  my  seat,  my  lord  imme- 
diately took  my  little  baby  into  his  lap,  and  gave  it  some 
tea  there,  not  a  little  at  the  expense  of  his  embroidery, 
for  he  was  very  richly  dressed  ;  indeed,  he  was  as  fine 
a  figure  as  perhaps  ever  was  seen.  His  behaviour  on 
this  occasion  gave  me  many  ideas  in  his  favour.  I 
thought  he  discovered  good  sense,  good-nature,  conde- 
scension, and  other  good  qualities,  by  the  fondness  he 
showed  to  my  child,  and  the  contempt  he  seemed  to  ex- 
press for  his  finery,  which  so  greatly  became  him  ;  for 
I  cannot  deny  but  that  he  was  the  handsomest  and  gen- 
teelest  person  in  the  world ;  though  such  considerations 
advanced  him  not  a  step  in  my  favour. 

"  My  husband  now  returned  from  church,  (for  this 
happened  on  a  Sunday,)  and  was,  by  my  lord's  particu- 
lar desire,  ushered  into  the  room.  My  lord  received  him 
with  the  utmost  politeness,  and  with  many  professions 


280  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

of  esteem,  which,  he  said,  he  had  conceived  from  Mrs. 
Ellison's  representations  of  his  merit.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  mention  the  living  which  was  detained  from 
my  husband,  of  which  Mrs.  Ellison  had  likewise  in- 
formed him ;  and  said  he  thought  it  would  be  no  diffi- 
cult matter  to  obtain  a  restoration  of  it  by  the  authority 
of  the  bishop,  who  was  his  particular  friend,  and  to 
whom  he  would  take  an  immediate  opportunity  of  men- 
tioning it.  This,  at  last,  he  determined  to  do  the  very 
next  day  ;  when  he  invited  us  both  to  dinner,  where  we 
were  to  be  acquainted  with  his  lordship's  success. 

"  My  lord  now  insisted  on  my  husband's  staying  sup- 
per with  him,  without  taking  any  notice  of  me ;  but 
Mrs.  Ellison  declared  he  should  not  part  man  and  wife, 
and  that  she  herself  would  stay  with  me.  The  motion 
was  too  agreeable  to  me  to  be  rejected  ;  and,  except  the 
little  time  I  retired  to  put  my  child  to  bed,  we  spent  to- 
gether the  most  agreeable  evening  imaginable  ;  nor  was 
it,  I  believe,  easy  to  decide,  whether  Mr.  Bennet  or  my- 
self were  most  delighted  with  his  lordship  and  Mrs.  El- 
lison ;  but  this  I  assure  you,  the  generosity  of  the  one, 
and  the  extreme  civility  and  kindness  of  the  other,  were 
the  subjects  of  our  conversation  all  the  ensuing  night, 
during  which  we  neither  of  us  closed  our  eyes. 

"  The  next  day,  at  dinner,  my  lord  acquainted  us, 
that  he  had  prevailed  with  the  bishop  to  write  to  the 
clergyman  in  the  country  ;  indeed,  he  told  us  that  he  had 
engaged  the  bishop  to  be  very  warm  in  our  interest,  and 
had  not  the  least  doubt  of  success.  This  threw  us  both 
into  a  flow  of  spirits;  and  in  the  afternoon,  Mr.  Ben- 
net,  at  Mrs.  Ellison's  request,  which  was  seconded  by 
his  lordship,  related  the  history  of  our  lives  from  our 
first  acquaintance.  My  lord  seemed  much  affected  with 
some  tender  scenes,  which,  as  no  man  could  better  feel, 
so  none  could  better  describe  than  my  husband.  When 
he  had  finished,  my  lord  begged  pardon  for  mentioning 
an  occurrence  which  gave  him  such  a  particular  con- 
cern, as  it  had  disturbed  that  delicious  state  of  happiness 
in  which  we  had  lived  at  our  former  lodging.  '  It  would 
be  ungenerous,'  said  he, '  to  rejoice  at  an  accident  which, 
though  it  brought  me  fortunately  acquainted  with  two 
of  the  most  agreeable  people  in  the  world,  was  yet  at 
the  expense  of  your  mutual  felicity.  The  circumstance 
I  mean,  is  your  debt  at  Oxford :  pray,  how  does  that 
stand  1    I  am  resolved  it  shall  never  disturb  your  hap- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  281 

piness  hereafter.'  At  these  words,  the  tears  burst  from 
my  poor  husband's  eyes  ;  and,  in  an  ecstasy  of  grati- 
tude, he  cried  out,  '  Your  lordship  overcomes  me  with 
generosity.  If  you  go  on  in  this  manner,  both  my  wife's 
gratitude  and  mine  must  be  bankrupt.'  He  then  ac- 
quainted my  lord  with  the  exact  state  of  the  case,  and 
received  assurances  from  him  that  the  debt  should  never 
trouble  him.  My  husband  was  again  breaking  out  into 
the  warmest  expressions  of  gratitude,  but  my  lord 
stopped  him  short,  saying,  '  If  you  have  any  obligation,  it 
is  to  my  little  Charly  here,  from  whose  little  innocent 
smiles  I  have  received  more  than  the  value  of  this  trifling 
debt  in  pleasure.'  I  forgot  to  tell  you,  that  when  I 
offered  to  leave  the  room,  after  dinner,  upon  my  child's 
account,  my  lord  would  not  suffer  me,  but  ordered  the 
child  to  be  brought  to  me.  He  now  took  it  out  of  my 
arms,  placed  it  upon  his  own  knee,  and  fed  it  with  some 
fruit  from  the  dessert.  In  short,  it  would  be  more 
tedious  to  you  than  to  myself  to  relate  the  thousand 
little  tendernesses  he  showed  to  the  child.  He  gave  it 
many  bawbles ;  among  the  rest  was  a  coral,  worth  at 
least  three  pounds  ;  and  when  my  husband  was  confined 
near  a  fortnight  to  his  chamber  with  a  cold,  he  visited 
the  child  everyday,  for  to  this  infant's  account  were  all 
the  visits  placed  ;  and  seldom  failed  of  accompanying 
his  visit  with  a  present  to  the  little  thing. 

"  Here,  Mrs.  Booth,  I  cannot  help  mentioning  a  doubt 
which  has  often  arisen  in  my  mind,  since  I  have  been 
enough  mistress  of  myself  to  reflect  on  this  horrid  train 
which  was  laid  to  blow  up  my  innocence.  Wicked  and 
barbarous  it  was  to  the  highest  degree,  without  any 
question  ;  but  my  doubt  is,  whether  the  art  or  folly  of  it 
be  the  more  conspicuous  ;  for  however  delicate  and  re- 
fined the  art  must  be  allowed  to  have  been,  the  folly,  I 
think,  must,  upon  a  fair  examination,  appear  no  less 
astonishing  ;  for,  to  lay  all  considerations  of  cruelty  and 
crime  out  of  the  case,  what  a  foolish  bargain  does  the 
man  make  for  himself  who  purchases  so  poor  a  pleasure 
at  so  high  a  price  ! 

"  We  had  lived  near  three  weeks  with  as  much  free- 
dom as  if  we  had  been  all  of  the  same  family;  when, 
one  afternoon,  my  lord  proposed  to  my  husband  to  ride 
down  himself  to  solicit  the  surrender;  for  he  said  the 
bishop  had  received  an  unsatisfactory  answer  from  the 
parson,  and  had  written  a  second  letter  more  pressing, 
24* 


S82  THE  HISTORY   OF   AMELIA. 

which  his  lordship  now  promised  us  to  strengthen  by  one 
of  his  own,  that  my  husband  was  to  carry  with  him. 
Mr.  Bennet  agreed  to  this  proposal  with  great  thankful- 
ness, and  the  next  day  was  appointed  for  his  journey. 
The  distance  was  near  seventy  miles. 

"  My  husband  set  out  on  his  journey ;  and  he  had 
scarce  left  me,  before  Mrs.  Ellison  came  into  my  room, 
and  endeavoured  to  comfort  nie  in  his  absence :  to  say 
the  truth,  though  he  was  to  be  from  me  but  a  few  days, 
and  the  purpose  of  his  going  was  to  fix  our  happiness 
on  a  sound  foundation  for  all  our  future  days,  1  could 
scarce  support  my  spirits  under  this  first  separation. 
But  though  1  then  thought  Mrs.  Ellison's  intentions  to 
be  most  kind  and  friendly,  yet  the  means  she  used  were 
utterly  ineffectual,  and  appeared  to  me  injudicious. 
Instead  of  soothing  my  uneasiness,  which  is  always  the 
first  physic  to  be  given  to  grief,  she  rallied  me  upon  it,  and 
began  to  talk  in  a  very  unusual  style  of  gayety,  in  which 
she  treated  conjugal  love  with  much  ridicule. 

"  I  gave  her  to  understand  that  she  displeased  me  by 
this  discourse  ;  but  she  soon  found  means  to  give  such  a 
turn  to  it,  as  made  a  merit  of  all  she  had  said.  And 
now,  when  she  had  worked  me  into  a  good  humour,  she 
made  a  proposal  to  me,  which  I  at  first  rejected  ;  but  at 
last  fatally — too  fatally,  suffered  myself  to  be  over  per- 
suaded. This  was  to  go  to  a  masquerade  at  Ranelagh,  for 
which  my  lord  had  furnished  her  with  tickets." 

At  these  words,  Amelia  turned  pale  as  death,  and 
hastily  begged  her  friend  to  give  her  a  glass  of  water, 
some  air,  or  anything.  Mrs.  Bennet,  having  thrown  open 
the  window,  and  procured  the  water,  which  prevented 
Amelia  from  fainting,  looked  at  her  with  much  tender- 
ness, and  cried,  "  I  do  not  wonder,  my  dear  madam,  that 
you  are  affected  with  my  mentioning  that  fatal  masquer- 
ade ;  since  I  firmly  believe  the  same  ruin  was  intended 
for  you  at  the  same  place ;  the  apprehension  of  which 
occasioned  the  letter  I  sent  you  this  morning,  and  all 
the  trial  of  your  patience  which  I  have  made  since." 

Amelia  gave  her  a  tender  embrace,  with  many  ex- 
pressions of  the  warmest  gratitude  ;  assured  her  she  had 
pretty  well  recovered  her  spirits,  and  begged  her  to 
continue  her  story  ;  which  Mrs.  Bennet  then  did.  How- 
ever, as  our  readers  may  likewise  be  glad  to  recover 
their  spirits  also,  we  shall  here  put  an  end  to  the  chapter. 


THE   HISTORY  OF  AMELIA.  283 


Chapter  VII. — The  story  iurtlaer  contmued, 

Mrs.  Bennet  proceeded  thus : — 

**I  was  at  length  prevailed  on  to  accompany  Mrs, 
Ellison  to  the  masquerade.  Here,  I  must  confess,  the 
pleasantness  of  the  place,  the  variety  of  the  dresses, 
and  the  novelty  of  the  thing,  gave  me  much  delight, 
and  raised  my  fancy  to  the  highest  pitch.  As  I  was  en- 
tirely void  of  all  suspicion,  my  mind  threw  off  all  re- 
serve, and  pleasure  only  filled  my  thoughts.  Innocence, 
it  is  true,  possessed  my  heart ;  but  it  was  innocence  un- 
guarded, intoxicated  with  foolish  desires,  and  liable  to 
every  temptation.  During  the  first  two  hours,  we  had 
many  trifling  adventures  not  worth  remembering.  At 
length  my  lord  joined  us,  and  continued  with  me  all  the 
evening,  and  we  danced  several  dances  together, 

"  I  need  not,  I  believe,  tell  you,  madam,  how  engaging 
his  conversation  is.  I  wish  I  could  with  truth  say,  I 
was  not  pleased  with  it ;  or,  at  least,  that  I  had  a  right 
to  be  pleased  with  it.  But  I  will  disguise  nothing  from 
you :  I  now  began  to  discover  that  he  had  some  affec- 
tion for  me  ;  but  he  had  already  too  firm  a  footing  in  my 
esteem,  to  make  the  discovery  shocking.  I  will — 1  will 
own  the  truth  ;  I  was  delighted  with  perceiving  a  pas- 
sion in  him,  which  I  was  not  unwilling  to  think  he  had 
had  from  the  beginning,  and  to  derive  his  having  con- 
cealed it  so  long  from  his  awe  of  my  virtue,  and  his 
respect  to  my  understanding.  1  assure  you,  madam,  at 
the  same  time,  my  intentions  were  never  to  exceed  the 
bounds  of  innocence.  I  was  charmed  with  the  delicacy 
of  his  passion ;  and  in  the  foolish,  thoughtless  turn  of 
mind  in  which  I  then  was,  I  fancied  I  might  give  some 
very  distant  encouragement  to  such  a  passion  in  such  a 
man,  with  the  utmost  safety ;  that  I  might  indulge  my 
vanity  and  interest  at  once,  without  being  guilty  of  the 
least  injury. 

'*  I  know  Mrs.  Booth  will  condemn  all  these  thoughts, 
and  I  condemn  them  no  less  myself;  for  it  is  now  my 
steadfast  opinion,  that  the  woman  who  gives  up  the  least 
outwork  of  her  virtue,  does  in  that  very  moment  betray 
the  citadel. 

"  About  two  o'clock  we  returned  home,  and  found  a 
very  handsome  collation  provided  for  us.     I  was  asked 


284'  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

to  partake  of  it ;  and  I  did  not,  I  could  not  refuse.  I  was 
not,  however,  entirely  void  of  all  suspicion,  and  I  made 
many  resolutions  ;  one  of  which  was,  not  to  drink  a  drop 
more  than  my  usual  stint.  This  was,  at  the  utmost,  little 
more  than  half  a  pint  of  small  punch. 

"  I  adhered  strictly  to  my  quantity,  but  in  the  quality 
I  am  convinced  I  was  deceived ;  for,  before  I  left  the 
room,  I  found  my  head  giddy.  What  the  villain  gave 
me,  I  know  not ;  but,  besides  being  intoxicated,  I  per- 
ceived effects  from  it  which  are  not  to  be  described. 

"  Here,  madam,  I  must  draw  a  curtain  over  the  resi- 
due of  that  fatal  night.  Let  it  suffice,  that  it  involved 
me  in  the  most  dreadful  ruin  ;  a  ruin  to  which,  I  can  truly 
say,  I  never  consented ;  and  of  which  I  was  scarce  con- 
scious, when  the  villanous  man  avowed  it  to  my  face  in 
the  morning. 

•'  Thus  I  have  deduced  my  story  to  the  most  horrid 
period  ;  happy  had  I  been  had  this  been  the  period  of  my 
life  ;  but  I  was  reserved  for  greater  miseries  :  but  before 
I  enter  on  them,  I  will  mention  something  very  remark- 
able, with  which  I  was  now  acquainted,  and  that  will 
show  there  was  nothing  of  accident  which  had  befallen 
me ;  but  that  all  was  the  effect  of  a  long,  regular,  pre- 
meditated design. 

"  You  may  remember,  madam,  1  told  you  that  we 
were  recommended  to  Mrs.  Ellison  by  a  woman  al 
whose  house  we  had  before  lodged.  This  woman,  it 
seems,  was  one  of  my  lord's  pimps,  and  had  before  in- 
troduced me  to  his  lordship's  notice. 

"  You  are  to  know  then,  madam,  that  this  villain,  this 
lord,  now  confessed  to  me  that  he  had  first  seen  me 
in  the  gallery  at  the  oratorio,  whither  1  had  gone  with 
tickets  with  which  the  woman  where  I  had  first 
lodged  had  presented  me,  and  which  were,  it  seems, 
purchased  by  my  lord.  Here  I  first  met  the  vile  be- 
trayer, who  was  disguised  in  a  rug-coat,  and  a  patch 
upon  his  face." 

At  these  words,  Amelia  cried  out,  "  Oh,  gracious 
heavens  !"  and  fell  back  in  her  chair.  Mrs.  Bennet, 
with  proper  applications,  brought  her  back  to  life  ;  and 
then  Amelia  acquainted  her  that  she  herself  had  first 
seen  the  same  person  in  the  same  place,  and  in  the  same 
disguise.  "  Oh,  Mrs.  Bennet !"  cried  she,  "  how  am  I 
indebted  to  you  I  what  words,  what  thanks,  what  actions 
can  demonstrate  the  gratitude  of  my  sentiments  !    I  look 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  285 

^pon  you,  and  always  shall  look  upon  you,  as  my  pre- 
server from  the  brink  of  a  precipiee,  from  which  I  was 
falling  into  the  same  ruin,  which  you  have  so  generously, 
so  kindly,  and  so  nobly  disclosed  for  my  sake." 

Here  the  two  ladies  compared  notes  ;  and  it  appeared 
that  his  lordship's  behaviour  at  the  oratorio  had  been 
alike  to  both ;  that  he  had  made  use  of  the  very  same 
words,  the  very  same  actions  to  Amelia,  which  he  had 
practised  over  before  on  poor,  unfortunate  Mrs.  Bennet. 
It  may,  perhaps,  be  thought  strange,  that  neither  of  them 
could  afterward  recollect  him  ;  but  so  it  was.  And,  in- 
deed, if  we  consider  the  force  of  disguise,  the  very  short 
time  that  either  of  them  was  with  him  at  this  first  inter- 
view, and  the  very  little  curiosity  that  must  have  been 
supposed  in  the  minds  of  the  ladies,  together  with  the 
amusement  in  whieh  they  were  then  engaged,  all  won- 
der will,  I  apprehend,  cease.  Ameha,  however,  now  de- 
clared she  remembered  his  voice  and  features  perfectly 
well,  and  w^as  thoroughly  satisfied  that  he  was  the  same 
person.  She  then  accounted  for  his  not  having  visited 
in  the  afternoon,  according  to  his  promise,  from  her  de- 
clared resolutions  to  Mrs.  Ellison  not  to  see  him.  She 
now  burst  forth  into  some  very  satirical  invectives 
against  that  lady,  and  declared  she  had  the  art,  as  well 
as  the  wickedness,  of  the  devil  himself. 

Many  congratulations  now  passed  from  Mrs.  Bennet 
to  Amelia,  which  were  returned  with  the  most  hearty 
acknowledgments  from  that  lady.  But,  instead  of  filling 
our  paper  with  the^,  we  shall  pursue  Mrs.  Bennet's 
story  ;  which  she  resumed  as  we  shall  find,  in  the  next 
chapter. 


Chapter  VITL— Further  continuation. 

*^  No  sooner,"  said  Mrs.  Bennet,  continuing  her  story, 
*'■  was  my  lord  departed,  than  Mrs.  Ellison  came  to  me. 
She  behaved  in  such  a  manner,  when  she  became  ac- 
quainted with  what  had  passed,  that  though  I  was  at  first 
satisfied  of  her  guilt,  she  began  to  stagger  my  opinion ; 
and  at  length  prevailed  upon  me  entirely  to  acquit  her. 
She  raved  like  a  mad  woman  against  my  lord,  swore  he 
should  not  stay  a  moment  in  her  house,  and  that  she 
would  never  speak  to  him  more.    In  short,  had  she  beea 


286  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA; 

the  most  innocent  woman  in  the  world,  she  could  not 
have  spoken  nor  acted  any  otherwise,  nor  could  she 
have  vented  more  wrath  and  indignation  against  the  be- 
trayer. 

"That  part  of  her  denunciation  of  vengeance  which 
concerned  my  lord's  leaving  the  house,  she  vowed  should 
be  executed  immediately  ;  but  then,  seeming  to  recol- 
lect herself,  she  said,  '  Consider,  my  dear  child,  it  is 
for  your  sake  alone  I  speak ;  will  not  such  a  proceed- 
ing give  some  suspicion  to  your  husband  V  I  answered, 
that  1  valued  not  that ;  that  I  was  resolved  to  inform  my 
husband  of  all,  the  moment  I  saw  him  ;  with  many  eX' 
pressions  of  detestation  of  myself,  and  an  indifference 
for  life,  and  for  everything  else. 

*'  Mrs.  Ellison,  however,  found  means  to  sooth  me, 
and  to  satisfy  me  with  my  own  innocence ;  a  point  in 
which,  1  believe,  we  are  all  easily  convinced.  In  short, 
I  was  persuaded  to  acquit  both  myself  and  her,  to  lay  the 
■whole  guilt  upon  my  lord,  and  to  resolve  to  conceal  it 
from  my  husband. 

"  That  whole  day  I  confined  myself  to  my  chamber, 
and  saw  no  person  but  Mrs.  Ellison.  I  was  indeed 
ashamed  to  look  any  one  in  the  face.  Happily  for  me, 
my  lord  went  into  the  country  without  attempting  to 
come  near  me  ;  for  I  believe  his  sight  would  have  driven 
rae  to  madness. 

"  The  next  day,  I  told  Mrs.  EUison  that  I  was  re- 
solved to  leave  her  lodgings  the  moment  my  lord  came 
to  town;  not  on  her  account,  (fo»I  really  inclined  to 
think  her  innocent,)  but  on  my  lord's,  whose  face  I  was 
resolved,  if  possible,  never  more  to  behold.  She  told  me 
I  had  no  reason  to  quit  her  house  on  that  score  ;  for  that 
my  lord  himself  had  left  her  lodgings  that  morning,  in 
resentment,  she  believed,  of  the  abuse  which  she  had 
cast  on  him  the  day  before. 

"  This  confirmed  me  in  the  opinion  of  her  innocence  : 
nor  has  she,  from  that  day  to  this,  till  my  acquaintance 
with  you,  madam,  done  anything  to  forfeit  my  opinion. 
On  the  contrary,  I  owe  her  many  good  oflices  ;  among 
the  rest,  I  have  an  annuity  of  150/.  a  year  from  my  lord, 
which  I  know  was  owing  to  her  solicitations,  for  she  is 
not  void  of  generosity  or  good-nature  ;  though,  by  what 
I  have  lately  seen,  I  am  convinced  she  was  the  cause  of 
my  ruin,  and  has  endeavoured  to  lay  the  same  snares 
for  you. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  287 

"  But  to  return  to  my  melancholy  story.  My  hus- 
band returned  at  the  appointed  time  ;  and  I  met  him 
with  an  agitation  of  mind  not  to  be  described.  Perhaps 
the  fatigue  which  he  had  undergone  in  his  journey,  and 
his  dissatisfaction  at  his  ill  success,  prevented  his  taking 
notice  of  what  I  feared  was  too  visible.  All  his  hopes 
were  entirely  frustrated;  the  clergyman  had  not  received 
the  bishop's  letter  ;  and  as  to  my  lord's,  he  treated  it 
with  derision  and  contempt.  Tired  as  he  was,  Mr. 
Bennet  would  not  sit  down  till  he  had  inquired  for  my 
lord,  intending  to  go  and  pay  his  compliments.  Poor 
man  !  he  little  suspected  that  he  had  deceived  him,  as  I 
have  since  known,  concerning  the  bishop;  much  less  did 
he  suspect  any  other  injury.  But  the  lord — the  villain — 
was  gone  out  of  town ;  so  that  he  was  forced  to  post- 
pone all  his  gratitude. 

"  Mr.  Bennet  returned  to  town  late  on  the  Saturday 
night,  nevertheless  he  performed  his  duty  at  church  the 
next  day ;  but  I  refused  to  go  with  him.  This,  I  think, 
was  the  first  refusal  I  was  guilty  of  since  our  marriage : 
but  I  was  become  so  miserable,  that  his  presence,  which 
had  been  the  source  of  all  my  happiness,  was  become 
my  bane.  I  will  not  say  I  hated  to  see  him ;  but  I  can 
say  I  was  ashamed,  indeed  afraid,  to  look  him  in  the 
face.  I  was  conscious  of  I  knew  not  what — guilt,  I 
hope,  it  cannot  be  called." 

"  I  hope  not,  nay,  I  think  not,"  cries  Amelia. 

*'  My  husband,"  continued  Mrs.  Bennet,  "  perceived  my 
dissatisfaction,  and  imputed  it  to  his  ill  success  in  the 
country.  I  was  pleased  with  this  self-delusion  ;  and  yet, 
when  I  fairly  compute  the  agonies  I  suffered  at  his  en- 
deavours to  comfort  me  on  that  head,  I  paid  most  se- 
verely for  it.  Oh,  my  dear  Mrs.  Booth !  happy  is  the 
deceived  party  between  true  lovers,  and  wretched  indeed 
is  the  author  of  the  deceit. 

"  In  this  wretched  condition  I  passed  a  whole  week, 
the  most  miserable,  I  think,  of  my  whole  life,  endeavour- 
ing to  humour  my  husband's  delusion,  and  to  conceal  my 
own  tortures  ;  but  1  had  reason  to  fear  I  could  not  suc- 
ceed long;  for  on  the  Saturday  night  I  perceived  a  visi- 
ble alteration  in  his  behaviour  to  me.  He  went  to  bed 
in  an  apparent  ill-humour;  turned  sullenly  from  me; 
and,  if  I  offered  any  endearments,  he  gave  me  only 
peevish  answers. 

"  After  a  restless,  turbulent  night,  he  arose  early  on 


288  THE    HISTORY   OF  AMELIA, 

Sunday  morning,  and  walked  down  stairs.  I  expecfei^ 
his  return  to  breakfast,  but  was  soon  informed  by  the 
maid  that  he  was  gone  forth ;  and  that  it  was  no  more 
than  seven  o'clock.  All  this,  you  may  believe,  madam, 
alarmed  me,  I  saw  plainly  he  had  discovered  the  fatal 
secret,  though  by  what  meaus  I  could  not  divine.  The 
state  of  my  mind  was  very  little  short  of  madness. 
Sometimes  I  thought  of  running  away  from  my  injured 
husband,  and  sometimes  of  putting  an  end  to  my  life. 

"  In  the  midst  of  such  perturbations  I  spent  the  day. 
My  husband  returned  in  the  evening.  Oh  heavens  !  can 
I  describe  what  followed  ^  It  is  impossible  ;  I  shall  sink 
under  the  relation.  He  entered  the  room,  with  a  face 
as  white  as  a  sheet,  his  lips  trembling,  and  his  eyes  as 
red  as  coals  of  fire,  and  starting  as  it  were  from  his  head. 
*  Molly,'  cries  he,  throwing  himself  into  his  chair, '  are  you 
well  V  '  Good  heavens  !'  says  I,  '  what's  the  matter  ?  In- 
deed, I  cannot  say  1  am  well.'  '  No,'  says  he,  starting 
from  his  chair,  '  false  monster,  you  have  betrayed  me, 
destroyed  me,  you  have  ruined  your  husband  V  Then, 
looking  like  a  fury,  he  snatched  off  a  large  book  from 
the  table,  and,  with  the  mahce  of  a  madman,  threw  it  at 
my  head,  and  knocked  me  down  backward.  He  then 
caught  me  up  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  me  with  most  ex- 
travagant tenderness ;  then,  looking  me  steadfastly  in 
the  face  for  several-  moments,  the  tears  gushed  in  a  tor- 
rent from  his  eyes,  and  with  his  utmost  violence  he 
threw  me  again  on  the  floor ;  kicked  me,  stamped  uprm 
me.  I  believe,  indeed,  his  intent  was  to  kill  me,  and  I 
believe  he  thought  he  had  accomplished  it. 

"  I  lay  on  the  ground  for  some  minutes,  I  believe,  de- 
prived of  my  senses.  When  I  recovered  myself,  1  found 
my  husband  lying  by  my  side  on  his  face,  and  the  blood 
running  from  him.  It  seems,  when  he  thought  he  had 
despatched  me,  he  ran  his  head  with  all  his  force  against 
a  chest  of  drawers  which  stood  in  the  room,  and  gave 
himself  a  dreadful  wound  in  his  head. 

"  I  can  truly  say,  I  felt  not  the  least  resentment  for 
the  usage  I  had  received ;  I  thought  I  deserved  it  all ; 
though,  indeed,  I  little  guessed  what  he  had  suffered 
from  me.  I  now  used  the  most  earnest  entreaties  to 
him  to  compose  himself;  and  endeavoured,  with  my 
feeble  arms,  to  raise  him  from  the  ground.  At  length 
he  broke  from  me,  and  springing  from  the  ground,  flung 
himself  mto  a  chair,  when, looking  Mildly  at  me,  he  cried, 
'  Go  from  me,  Molly.     I  beseech  you,  leave  me  ;  I  Avould 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  289 

not  kill  you.'  He  then  discovered  to  me — Oh,  Mrs. 
Booth  I  can  you  gness  it  ?  1  was  indeed  polkited  by  the 
villain  ;  I  had  infected  my  husband.  Oh  heavens  !  why 
do  I  live  to  relate  anything  so  horrid  ?  I  will  not,  I  can- 
not yet  survive  it.  I  cannot  forgive  myself.  Heaven 
cannot  forgive  me." 

Here  she  became  inarticulate  with  the  violence  of  her 
grief,  and  fell  presently  into  such  agonies,  that  the  af- 
frighted Amelia  began  to  call  aloud  for  some  assistance. 
Upon  this,  a  maid-servant  came  up,  who,  seeing  her 
mistress  in  a  violent  convulsion  fit,  presently  screamed 
out  she  was  dead.  Upon  which  one  of  the  other  sex 
made  his  appearance ;  and  who  should  this  be  but  the 
honest  sergeant  ?  whose  countenance  soon  made  it  evi- 
dent, that  though  a  soldier,  and  a  brave  one  too,  he  was  not 
the  least  concerned  of  all  the  company  on  this  occasion. 

The  reader,  if  he  has  been  acquainted  with  scenes  of 
this  kind,  very  well  knows  that  Mrs.  Bennet,  in  the 
usual  time,  returned  again  to  the  possession  of  her  voice  ; 
the  first  use  of  which  she  made  was  to  express  her 
astonishment  at  the  presence  of  the  sergeant,  and,  with 
a  frantic  air,  to  inquire  who  he  was. 

The  maid,  concluding  that  her  mistress  was  not  yet 
returned  to  her  senses,  answered,  "  Why  'tis  my  master, 
madam.  Heaven  preserve  your  senses,  madam.  Lord, 
sir,  my  mistress  must  be  very  bad  not  to  know  you." 

What  Atkinson  thought  at  this  instant,  I  will  not  say ; 
but  certain  it  is,  he  looked  not  over  wise.  He  attempted 
twice  to  take  hold  of  Mrs.  Bennet's  hand  ;  but  she  with- 
drew it  hastily,  and,  presently  after  rising  up  from  her 
chair,  she  declared  herself  pretty  well  again,  and  desired 
Atkinson  and  the  maid  to  withdraw,  both  of  whom  pres- 
ently obeyed;  the  sergeant  appearing,  by  his  countenance, 
to  want  comfort  almost  as  much  as  the  lady  did,  to 
whose  assistance  he  had  been  summoned. 

It  is  a  good  maxim  to  trust  a  person  entirely  or  not  at 
all  ;  for  a  secret  is  often  innocently  blabbed  out  by  those 
who  know  but  half  of  it.  Certain  it  is,  that  the  maid's 
speech  communicated  a  suspicion  to  the  mind  of  Amelia, 
which  the  behaviour  of  the  sergeant  did  not  tend  to  re- 
move :  what  that  is,  the  sagacious  readers  may  likewise 
probably  suggest  to  themselves ;  if  not,  they  must  wait 
our  time  for  disclosing  it.  We  shall  now  resume  the 
history  of  Mrs.  Bennet,  who,  after  many  apologies,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  matters  in  the  next  chapter. 
25  N 


290  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA, 


Chapter  IX.— The  conclusion  of  Mrs.  Bennet's  history, 

"  When  1  became  sensible,"  cries  Mrs.  Bennet, "  of  the 
injury  1  had  done  my  husband,  I  threw  myself  at  his 
feet ;  and  embracing  his  knees,  while  I  bathed  them  with 
my  tears,  I  begged  a  patient  hearing,  declaring,  if  he  was 
not  satisfied  with  what  I  should  say,  I  would  become  a 
willing  victim  of  his  resentment.  I  said,  and  I  said 
truly,  that  if  I  owed  my  death  that  instant  to  his  hands, 
I  should  have  no  other  terror,  but  of  the  fatal  conse- 
quence which  it  might  produce  to  himself. 

"  He  seemed  a  little  pacified,  and  bid  me  say  what- 
ever I  pleased. 

"  I  then  gave  him  a  faithful  relation  of  all  that  bad 
happened.  He  heard  me  with  great  attention,  and  at 
the  conclusion  cried,  with  a  deep  sigh,  '  Oh,  Molly,  I  be- 
lieve it  all.  You  must  have  been  betrayed  as  you  tell 
me;  you  could  not  be  guilty  of  such  baseness,  such 
cruelty,  such  ingratitude.'  He  then — oh,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  describe  his  behaviour !  he  expressed  such  kind- 
ness, such  tenderness,  such  concern  for  the  manner  in 
which  he  had  used  me — I  cannot  dwell  on  this  scene — I 
shall  relapse — you  must  excuse  me." 

Ameha  begged  her  to  omit  anything  which  so  affected 
her;  and  she  proceeded  thus: — 

"  My  husband,  who  was  more  convinced  than  I  was 
of  Mrs.  Ellison's  guilt,  declared  he  would  not  sleep  that 
night  in  her  house.  He  then  went  out  to  seek  for  a 
lodging;  he  gave  me  all  the  money  he  had,  and  left  me 
to  pay  her  bill,  and  put  up  the  clothes,  telling  me,  if  I 
had  not  money  enough,  I  might  leave  the  clothes  as  a 
pledge  ;  but  he  vowed  he  could  not  answer  for  himself 
if  he  saw  the  face  of  Mrs.  Ellison. 

"  Words  can  scarce  express  the  behaviour  of  that  art- 
ful woman,  it  was  so  kind  and  so  generous.  She  said 
she  did  not  blame  my  husband's  resentment ;  nor  could 
she  expect  any  other,  but  that  he  and  all  the  world 
should  censure  her;  that  she  hated  her  house  almost  as 
much  as  we  did,  and  detested  her  cousm,  if  possible, 
more.  In  fine,  she  said  I  might  leave  my  clothes  here 
that  evening,  but  that  she  would  send  them  to  us  the 
next  morning ;  that  she  scorned  the  thought  of  detain- 
ing them ;  and  as  for  the  paltry  debt,  we  might  pay  her 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  291 

whenever  we  pleased;  for,  to  do  her  justice,  with  all 
her  vices,  she  has  some  good  in  her." 

"  Some  good  in  her,  indeed!"  cried  Amelia,  with  great 
indignation. 

"  We  were  scarce  settled  in  our  new  lodging,"  contin- 
ued Mrs.  Bennet,  "when  my  husband  began  to  com- 
plain of  a  pain  in  his  inside.  He  told  me,  he  feared  he 
had  done  himself  some  injury  in  his  rage,  and  had  burst 
something  within  him.  As  to  the  odious — I  cannot  bear 
the  thought — the  great  skill  of  the  surgeon  soon  entire- 
ly cured  him ;  but  his  other  complaint,  instead  of  yield- 
ing to  any  application,  grew  still  worse  and  worse,  nor 
ever  ended  till  it  brought  him  to  his  grave. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Booth !  could  1  have  been  certain  that  I 
had  occasioned  this,  however  innocently  I  had  occa- 
sioned it,  I  could  never  have  survived  it ;  but  the  sur- 
geon, who  opened  him  after  his  death,  assured  me,  that 
he  died  of  what  they  called  a  polypus  in  his  heart,  and 
that  nothing  which  had  happened  on  account  of  me  was 
in  the  least  the  occasion  of  it. 

"  I  have,  however,  related  the  affair  truly  to  you. 
The  first  complaint  I  ever  heard  of  the  kind,  was  with- 
in a  day  or  two  after  we  left  Mrs.  Ellison's ;  and  this 
complaint  remained  till  his  death,  which  might  induce 
him,  perhaps,  to  attribute  his  death  to  another  cause ; 
but  the  surgeon,  who  is  a  man  of  the  highest  eminence, 
has  always  declared  the  contrary  to  me,  with  the  most 
positive  certainty,  and  this  opinion  has  been  my  only 
comfort. 

"  When  my  husband  died,  which  was  about  ten  weeks 
after  we  quitted  Mrs.  Ellison's,  of  whom  I  had  then  a 
different  opinion  from  what  I  have  now,  I  was  left  in 
the  most  wretched  condition  imaginable.  I  believe, 
madam,  she  showed  you  my  letter.  Indeed,  she  did 
everything  for  me  at  that  time  which  I  could  have  ex- 
pected from  the  best  of  friends.  She  supplied  me  with 
money  from  her  own  pocket,  by  which  means  I  was 
preserved  from  a  distress,  in  which  I  must  have  other- 
wise inevitably  perished. 

"  Her  kindness  to  me  in  this  season  of  distress  pre- 
vailed on  me  to  return  again  to  her  house.  Why,  in- 
deed, should  I  have  refused  an  ofler  so  very  convenient 
for  me  to  accept,  and  which  seemed  so  generous  in  her 
to  make  1  Here  I  lived  a  very  retired  life,  with  my 
little  babe,  seeing  no  company  but  Mrs.  ElUson  herself 


292  THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA. 

for  a  full  quarter  of  a  year.  At  last,  Mrs.  Ellison  brought 
me  a  parchment  from  my  lord,  in  which  he  had  settled 
upon  me,  at  her  instance,  as  she  told  me,  and  as  I  be- 
lieve it  was,  an  annuity  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
a  year.  This  was,  1  think,  the  very  first  time  she  had 
mentioned  his  hateful  name  to  me  since  my  return  to 
her  house ;  and  she  now  prevailed  upon  me,  though  I 
assure  you  not  without  much  difficulty,  to  suffer  him  to 
execute  the  deed  in  my  presence. 

"  I  will  not  describe  our  interview  :  I  am  not  able  to 
describe  it,  and  I  have  often  wondered  how  I  have  found 
spirits  to  support  it.  This  I  will  say  for  him  ;  that,  if  he 
was  not  a  real  penitent,  no  man  alive  could  act  the  part 
better. 

"Besides  resentment,  I  had  another  motive  of  my 
backwardness  to  agree  to  such  a  meeting;  and  this  was 
fear.  I  apprehended,  and  surely  not  without  reason, 
that  the  annuity  was  rather  meant  as  a  bribe  than  a  rec- 
ompense, and  that  further  designs  were  laid  against 
my  innocence  :  but  in  this  I  found  myself  happily  de- 
ceived ;  for  neither  then,  nor  at  any  time  since,  have  I 
ever  had  the  least  solicitation  of  that  kind ;  nor,  indeed, 
have  I  seen  the  least  occasion  to  think  my  lord  had  any 
such  desires. 

"Good  heavens!  what  are  these  men"?  what  is  this 
appetite,  which  must  have  novelty  and  resistance  for  its 
provocatives  ;  and  which  is  delighted  with  us  no  longer 
than  while  we  may  be  considered  in  the  light  of 
enemies  V 

"  I  thank  you,  madam,"  cries  Ameha,  "  for  relieving  me 
from  my  fears  on  your  account :  I  trembled  at  the  conse- 
quence of  this  second  acquaintance  with  such  a  man, 
and  in  such  a  situation." 

"  I  assure  you,  madam,  I  was  in  no  danger,"  returned 
Mrs.  Bennet :  "  for,  besides  that  I  think  I  could  have 
pretty  well  relied  on  my  own  resolution,  I  have  heard 
since,  at  St.  Edmundsbury,from  an  intimate  acquaintance 
of  my  lord's,  who  was  an  entire  stranger  to  my  affairs, 
that  the  highest  degree  of  inconstancy  is  his  character ; 
and  that  few  of  his  numberless  mistresses  have  ever  re- 
ceived a  second  visit  from  him. 

"  Well,  madam,"  continued  she,  "  T  think  I  have  little 
more  to  trouble  you  with  ;  unless  I  should  relate  to  you 
my  long  ill  state  of  health,  from  which  I  am  lately,  I 
thank  Heaven,  recovered ;  or  unless  I  should  mention 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  293 

to  you  the  most  grievous  accident  that  ever  befell  me— 
the  loss  of  my  poor  dear  Charly."  Here  she  made  a 
full  stop,  and  the  tears  ran  down  into  her  bosom. 

Ameha  was  silent  a  few  minutes,  while  she  gave  the 
lady  time  to  vent  her  passion ;  after  which  she  began  to 
pour  forth  a  vast  profusion  of  acknowledgments  for  the 
trouble  she  had  taken  in  relating  her  history  ;  but  chief- 
ly for  the  motive  which  had  induced  her  to  it,  and  for 
the  kind  warning  which  she  had  given  her  by  the  little 
note  which  Mrs.  Bennet  had  sent  her  that  morning. 

"  Yes,  madam,"  cries  Mrs.  Bennet,  '*  I  am  convinced, 
by  what  1  have  lately  seen,  that  you  are  the  destined 
sacrifice  to  this  wicked  lord;  and  that  Mrs.  Ellison, 
whom  1  no  longer  doubt  to  have  been  the  instrument  of 
my  ruin,  intended  to  betray  you  in  the  same  manner. 
The  day  I  met  my  lord  in  your  apartment,  I  began  to 
entertain  some  suspicions,  and  I  took  Mrs.  Ellison  very 
roundly  to  task  upon  them  ;  her  behaviour,  notwithstand- 
ing many  asseverations  to  the  contrary,  convinced  me  I 
was  right;  and  I  intended,  more  than  once,  to  speak  to 
you,  but  could  not ;  till  last  night  the  mention  of  the  mas- 
querade determined  me  to  delay  it  no  longer.  I  therefore 
sent  you  that  note  this  morning,  and  am  glad  you  so 
luckily  discovered  the  writer,  as  it  has  given  me  this 
opportunity  of  easing  my  mind,  and  of  honestly  showing 
you  how  unworthy  1  am  of  your  friendship,  at  the  same 
time  that  I  so  earnestly  desire  it." 


Chapter  X. — Being  the  last  chapter  of  the  seventh  book. 

Amelia  did  not  fail  to  make  proper  compliments  to 
Mrs.  Bennet  on  the  conclusion  of  her  speech  in  the  last 
chapter.  She  told  her  that,  from  the  first  moment  of 
her  acquaintance,  she  had  the  strongest  inclination  to 
her  friendship ;  and  that  her  desires  of  that  kind  were 
much  increased  by  hearing  her  story.  "  Indeed,  madam," 
says  she,  "  you  are  much  too  severe  a  judge  on  your- 
self; for  they  must  have  very  little  candour,  in  my  opin- 
ion, who  look  upon  your  case  with  any  severe  eye.  To 
me,  I  assure  you,  you  appear  highly  the  object  of  com- 
passion ;  and  I  shall  always  esteem  you  as  an  innocent 
and  an  unfortunate  woman." 

Amelia  would  then  have  taken  her  leave ;  but  Mrs. 
25* 


294  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

Bennet  so  strongly  pressed  her  to  stay  to  breakfast, 
that  at  length  she  compUed :  indeed,  she  had  fasted  so 
long,  and  her  gentle  spirits  had  been  so  agitated  with 
a  variety  of  passions,  that  nature  very  strongly  seconded 
Mrs.  Bennet's  motion. 

While  the  maid  was  preparing  the  tea  equipage, 
Amelia,  with  a  little  slyness  in  her  countenance,  asked 
Mrs.  Bennet  if  Sergeant  Atkinson  did  not  lodge  in  the 
same  house  with  her.  The  other  reddened  so  extremely 
at  the  question,  repeated  the  sergeant's  name  with  such 
hesitation,  and  behaved  so  awkwardly,  that  Amelia 
wanted  no  further  confirmation  of  her  suspicions.  She 
would  not,  however,  declare  them  abruptly  to  the  other, 
but  began  a  dissertation  on  the  sergeant's  virtues ;  and, 
after  observing  the  great  concern  which  he  had  mani- 
fested when  Mrs.  Bennet  was  in  her  fit,  concluded  with 
saying  she  believed  the  sergeant  would  make  the  best 
husband  in  the  world;  for  that  he  had  great  tender- 
ness of  heart,  and  a  gentleness  of  manners,  not  often  to 
be  found  in  any  man,  and  much  seldomer  in  persons  of 
his  rank. 

"  And  why  not  in  his  rank  V  said  Mrs.  Bennet : 
"indeed,  Mrs.  Booth,  we  rob  the  lower  order  of  man- 
kind of  their  due.  I  do  not  deny  the  force  and  power 
of  education ;  but.  when  we  consider  how  very  inju- 
dicious is  the  education  of  the  better  sort  in  general, 
how  little  they  are  instructed  in  the  practice  of  virtue, 
we  shall  not  expect  to  find  the  heart  much  improved 
by  it ;  and  even  as  to  the  head,  how  very  slightly  do 
we  commonly  find  it  improved  by  what  is  called  a 
genteel  education !  1  have  myself,  1  think,  seen  in- 
stances of  as  great  goodness,  and  as  great  understand- 
ing too,  among  the  lower  sort  of  people,  as  among  the 
higher.  Let  us  compare  your  sergeant,  now,  with  the 
lord  who  has  been  the  subject  of  conversation  ;  on  which 
side  would  an  impartial  judge  decide  the  balance  to 
incline  ?" 

"  How  monstrous,  then,"  cries  Amelia,  "  is  the  opinion 
of  those  who  consider  our  matching  ourselves  the  least 
below  us  in  degree  as  a  kind  of  contamination  !" 

"A  most  absurd  and  preposterous  sentiment,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Bennet,  warmly:  "how  abhorrent  from 
justice,  from  common  sense,  and  from  humanity  ! — but 
how  extremely  incongruous  with  a  religion  which  pro- 
fesses to  know  no  difference  of  degree,  but  ranks  all 


THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA.  295 

mankind  on  the  footing'  of  brethren !  Of  all  kinds  of 
pride,  there  is  none  so  unchristian  as  that  of  station ; 
in  reality,  there  is  none  so  contemptible.  Contempt, 
indeed,  may  be  said  to  be  its  own  object :  for  my  own 
part,  I  know  none  so  despicable  as  those  who  despise 
others." 

"  I  do  assure  you,"  said  Amelia,  "  you  speak  my  own 
sentiments.  I  give  you  my  word,  I  should  not  be  asha- 
med of  being  the  wife  of  an  honest  man  in  any  station ; 
nor,  if  1  had  been  much  higher  than  I  was,  should  I  have 
thought  myself  degraded  by  calling  our  honest  sergeant 
my  husband." 

"  Since  you  have  made  this  declaration,"  cries  Mrs. 
Bennet,  "  1  am  sure  you  will  not  be  offended  at  a  secret 
I  am  going  to  mention  to  you." 

"  Indeed,  my  dear,"  answered  Amelia,  smiling,  "  I 
wonder  rather  you  have  concealed  it  so  long,  especially 
after  the  many  hints  I  have  given  you." 

"  Nay,  pardon  me,  madam,"  replied  the  other:  "  I  do 
not  remember  any  such  hints  ;  and,  perhaps,  you  do  not 
even  guess  at  what  I  am  going  to  say.  My  secret  is 
this  :  that  no  woman  ever  had  so  sincere,  so  passionate 
a  lover  as  you  have  had  in  the  sergeant." 

"la  lover  in  the  sergeant ! — I !"  cries  Amelia,  a  little 
surprised. 

"  Have  patience,"  answered  the  other ;  "  I  say  you, 
my  dear.  As  much  surprised  as  you  appear,  I  tell  you 
no  more  than  the  truth  ;  and  yet  it  is  a  truth  you  could 
hardly  expect  to  hear  from  me,  especially  with  so 
much  good-humour;  since  I  will  honestly  confess  to 

you But  what  need  have  I  to  confess  what  I  know 

you  guess  already  ?  Tell  me  now,  sincerely,  don't  you 
guess  V 

"  I  guess,  indeed,  and  hope,"  said  she, "  that  he  is  your 
husband." 

"  He  is,  indeed,  my  husband,"  cries  the  other ;  "  and 
I  am  most  happy  in  your  approbation :  in  honest  truth, 
you  ought  to  approve  my  choice,  since  you  was  every 
way  the  occasion  of  my  making  it.  What  you  said  of 
him  very  greatly  recommended  him  to  my  opinion  ;  but 
he  endeared  himself  to  me  most  by  what  he  said  of  you. 
In  short,  I  have  discovered,  he  has  always  loved  you 
with  such  a  faithful,  honest,  noble,  generous  passion,  that 
I  was  consequently  convinced  his  mind  must  possess  all 
the  ingredients  of  such  a  passion ;  and  what  are  these, 


. 


296  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

but  true  honour,  goodness,  modesty,  bravery,  tenderness, 
and,  in  a  word,  every  human  virtue  ?  Forgive  me,  my 
dear;  but  I  was  uneasy  till  I  became  myself  the  object 
of  such  a  passion." 

"  And  do  you  really  think,"  said  Amelia,  smiling,  "  that 
I  shall  forgive  you  robbing  me  of  such  a  lover  1  or,  sup- 
posing what  you  banter  me  with  was  true,  do  you  really 
imagifie  you  could  change  such  a  passion  T' 

"No,  my  dear,"  answered  the  other;  "I  only  hope 
I  have  changed  the  object :  for,  be  assured,  there  is  no 
greater  vulgar  error  than  that  it  is  impossible  for  a 
man  who  loves  one  v»'oman  ever  to  love  another.  On 
the  contrary,  it  is  certain,  that  a  man  who  can  love  one 
woman  so  well  at  a  distance,  will  love  another  better 
that  is  nearer  to  him.  Indeed,  I  have  heard  one  of 
the  best  husbands  in  the  world  declare,  in  the  presence 
of  his  wife,  that  he  had  always  loved  a  princess  with 
adoration.  These  passions,  which  reside  only  in 
very  amorous  and  very  delicate  minds,  feed  only  on 
the  delicacies  there  growing ;  and  leave  all  the  sub- 
stantial food,  and  enough  of  the  delicacy  too,  for  the 
wife." 

The  tea  being  now  ready,  Mrs.  Bennet,  or,  if  you 
please,  for  the  future,  j\trs.  Atkinson,  proposed  to  call 
in  her  husband  ;  but  Amelia  objected.  She  said  she 
should  be  glad  to  see  him  any  other  time  ;  but  was  then 
in  the  utmost  hurry,  as  she  had  been  three  hours  absent 
from  all  she  most  loved.  However,  she  had  scarce 
drunk  a  dish  of  tea  before  she  changed  her  mind ;  and, 
saying  she  would  not  part  man  and  wife,  desired  Mr. 
Atkinson  might  appear. 

The  maid  answered  that  her  master  was  not  at  home  : 
which  words  she  had  scarce  spoken,  when  he  knocked 
hastily  at  the  door,  and  immediately  came  running  into 
the  room,  all  pale  and  breathless  ;  and,  addressing  him- 
self to  Amelia,  cried  out,  "  I  am  sorry,  my  dear  lady,  to 
bring  you  ill  news:  but  Captain  Booth — "  "What! 
what !"  cries  Amelia,  dropping  the  teacup  from  her  hand ; 
*'is  anything  the  matter  with  him  ?"  "  Don't  be  fright- 
ened, my  dear  lady,"  said  the  sergeant :  "  he  is  in  very 
good  health  ;  but  a  misfortune  has  happened."  "  Are  my 
children  well "?"  said  Amelia.  "  Oh,  very  well,"  answered 
the  sergeant :  "  pray,  madam,  don't  be  frightened  ;  I 
hope  it  will  signify  nothing  :  he  is  arrested  ;  but  I  hope 
to  get  him  out  of  their  d — ned  hands  immediately." 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  297 

*'  Where  is  he  V  cries  Amelia  ;  "  I  will  go  to  him  this  in- 
stant." "  He  begs  you  will  not,"  answered  the  sergeant : 
"  I  have  sent  his  lawyer  to  him,  and  am  going  back  with 
Mrs.  Ellison  this  moment ;  but  I  beg  your  ladyship,  for 
his  sake,  and  for  your  own  sake,  not  to  go."  "  Mrs. 
EUison!  what  is  Mrs.  Ellison  to  do  V  cries  Amelia; 
"1  must  and  will  go."  Mrs.  Atkinson  then  interposed, 
and  begged  that  she  would  not  hurry  her  spirits,  but 
compose  herself,  and  go  home  to  her  children,  whither 
she  would  attend  her.  She  comforted  her  with  the 
thoughts  that  the  captain  was  in  no  immediate  danger ; 
that  she  could  go  to  him  when  she  would ;  and  desired 
her  to  let  the  sergeant  return  with  Mrs.  Ellison ;  saying, 
she  might  be  of  service,  and  that  there  was  much  wis- 
dom, and  no  kind  of  shame,  in  making  use  of  bad  people 
on  certain  occasions. 

"  And  who,"  cries  Amelia,  a  little  come  to  herself, 
"  has  done  this  barbarous  action  V 

*'  One  1  am  ashamed  to  name,"  cries  the  sergeant ; 
"  indeed,  I  had  always  a  very  different  opinion  of  him. 
1  could  not  have  believed  anything  but  my  own  ears 
and  eyes  ;  but  Dr.  Harrison  is  the  man  who  has  done 
the  deed." 

"  Dr.  Harrison !"  cries  Amelia ;  *'  well,  then,  there  is 
an  end  of  all  goodness  in  the  world.  I  will  never  have 
a  good  opinion  of  any  human  being  more." 

The  sergeant  begged  that  he  might  not  be  detained 
from  the  captain  ;  and  that  if  Amelia  pleased  to  go  home, 
he  would  wait  upon  her.  But  she  did  not  choose  to  see 
Mrs.  Ellison  at  this  time ;  and,  after  a  little  considera- 
tion, she  resolved  to  stay  where  she  was ;  and  Mrs.  At- 
kinson agreed  to  go  and  fetch  her  children  to  her,  it 
being  not  many  doors  distant. 

The  sergeant  then  departed ;  Amelia,  in  her  confusion, 
never  having  once  thought  of  wishing  him  joy  on  his 
marriage. 

N3 


298  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 


BOOK    Y  1 1 1. 

Chapter  I.— Being  the  first  chapter  of  the  eighth  book. 

The  history  must  now  look  a  little  backward  to  those 
circumstances  which  led  to  the  catastrophe  mentioned 
at  the  end  of  the  last  book. 

When  Amelia  went  out  in  the  morning,  she  left  her 
children  to  the  care  of  her  husband.  In  this  amiable  of- 
fice he  had  been  engaged  near  an  hour ;  and  was,  at  that 
very  time,  lying  along  on  the  floor,  and  his  little  things 
crawling  and  playing  about  him,  when  a  most  violent 
knock  was  heard  at  the  door ;  and  immediately  a  foot- 
man, running  up  stairs,  acquainted  him  that  his  lady 
was  taken  violently  ill,  and  carried  into  Mrs.  Chenevix's 
toy-shop. 

Booth  no  sooner  heard  this  account,  which  was  de- 
livered with  great  appearance  of  haste  and  earnestness, 
than  he  leaped  suddenly  up  from  the  floor  ;  and,  leaving 
his  children,  roaring  at  the  news  of  their  mother's  ill- 
ness, in  strict  charge  with  the  maid,  he  ran  as  fast  as 
his  legs  could  carry  him  to  the  place,  or  towards  the 
place  rather  ;  for,  before  he  arrived  at  the  shop,  a  gen- 
tleman stopped  him  full  butt,  crying,  "  Captain,  whither 
so  fast  V  Booth  answered  eagerly,  "  Whoever  you  are, 
friend,  don't  ask  me  any  questions  now."  "You  must 
pardon  me,  captain,"  answered  the  gentleman ;  "  but  I 
have  a  little  business  with  your  honour :  in  short,  cap- 
tain, I  have  a  small  warrant  here  in  my  pocket  against 
your  honour,  at  the  suit  of  one  Dr.  Harrison.''  ''  You 
are  a  bailiff  then]''  says  Booth.  '•  I  am  an  officer,  sir," 
answered  the  other.  '"  Well,  sir,  it  is  in  vain  to  con- 
tend," cries  Booth;  "  but  let  me  beg  you  will  permit  me 
only  to  step  to  Mrs.  Chenevix's :  I  will  attend  you,  upon 
my  honour,  wherever  you  please ;  but  my  wife  lies  vio- 
lently ill  there."  "  Oh,  for  that  matter,"  answered  the 
bailiff,  "you  may  set  your  heart  at  ease  :  your  lady,  I 
hope,  is  very  well.  I  assure  you  she  is  not  there  ;  you 
will  excuse  me,  captain,  these  are  only  stratagems  of 
war.  Bolus  and  virtus,  quis  in  a  hostess  equirit  V  "  Sir, 
I  honour  your  learning,"  cries  Booth,  "  and  could  almost 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  299 

kiss  you  for  what  you  tell  me.  I  assure  you,  I  would 
forgive  you  five  hundred  arrests  for  such  a  piece  of 
news.  Well,  sir,  and  whither  am  I  to  go  with  you]" 
"  Oh,  anywhere  ;  where  your  honour  pleases,"  cries  the 
bailiff.  "  Then  suppose  we  go  to  Brown's  coffee-house  V 
said  the  prisoner.  "  No,"  answered  the  bailiff,  "  that 
will  not  do  ;  that's  in  the  verge  of  the  court."  "  Why, 
then,  to  the  nearest  tavern,"  said  Booth.  "  No,  not  to 
a  tavern,"  cries  the  other;  "  that  is  not  a  place  of  secu- 
rity ;  and  you  know,  captain,  your  honour  is  a  shy  cock  : 
I  have  been  after  your  honour  these  three  months. 
Come,  sir,  you  must  go  to  my  house,  if  you  please." 
*'  With  all  my  heart,"  answered  Booth,  "  if  it  be  any- 
where hereabouts."  "  Oh,  it  is  but  a  little  ways  off," 
replied  the  bailiff;  "it  is  only  in  Gray's  Inn-lane,  just 
by  almost."  He  then  called  a  coach,  and  desired  his 
prisoner  to  walk  in. 

Booth  entered  the  coach  without  any  resistance, 
which,  had  he  been  inchned  to  make,  he  must  have 
plainly  perceived  would  have  been  ineffectual,  as  the 
bailiff  appeared  to  have  several  followers  at  hand,  two 
of  whom,  besides  the  commander-in-chief,  mounted 
with  him  into  the  coach.  As  Booth  was  a  sweet-tem- 
pered man,  as  well  as  somewhat  of  a  philosopher,  he  be- 
haved with  all  the  good-humour  imaginable,  and,  indeed, 
with  more  than  his  companions,  who,  however,  showed 
him  what  they  call  civility ;  that  is,  they  neither  struck 
him  nor  spit  in  his  face. 

Notwithstanding  the  pleasantry  which  Booth  endeav- 
oured to  preserve,  he  in  reality  envied  every  labourer 
whom  he  saw  pass  bj'  him  in  his  way.  The  charms  of 
liberty,  against  his  will,  rushed  on  his  njind  ;  and  he 
could  not  avoid  suggesting  to  himself,  how  much  more 
happy  was  the  poorest  wretch  who,  without  control, 
could  repair  to  his  homely  habitation  and  to  his  family, 
compared  to  him,  who  was  thus  violently  and  yet  law- 
fully torn  away  from  the  company  of  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren ;  and  their  condition,  especially  that  of  his  Amelia, 
gave  his  heart  many  a  severe  and  bitter  pang. 

At  length  he  arrived  at  the  bailiff's  mansion,  and  wa^ 
ushered  into  a  room  in  which  were  several  persons. 
Booth  desired  to  be  alone  ;  upon  which  the  baihff  waited 
on  him  up  stairs,  into  an  apartment,  the  windows  of 
which  were  well  fortified  with  iron  bars,  but  the  walls 
had  not  the  least  outwork  raised  before  them ;  they  were 


300  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

indeed  what  is  generally  called  naked  ;  the  bricks  having 
been  only  covered  with  a  thin  plaster,  which  in  many 
places  was  mouldered  away. 

The  first  demand  made  upon  Booth  was  for  coach-hire, 
which  amounted  to  two  shillings,  according  to  the  bailiff's 
account;  that  being  just  double  the  legal  fare.  He  was 
then  asked  if  he  did  not  choose  a  bowl  of  punch;  to 
which  he  having  answered  in  the  negative,  the  bailiff 
replied,  "  Nay,  sir,  just  as  you  please.  1  don't  ask  you 
to  drink,  if  you  don't  choose  it ;  but  certainly  you  know 
the  custom  :  the  house  is  full  of  prisoners,  and  I  can't 
afford  gentlemen  a  room  to  themselves  for  nothing." 

Booth  presently  took  this  hint,  (indeed,  it  was  a  pretty 
broad  one,)  and  told  the  bailiff  he  should  not  scruple  to 
pay  him  his  price  ;  but  in  fact  he  never  drank,  unless  at 
his  meals.  "  As  to  that,  sir,"  cries  the  bailiff,  "  it  is  just 
as  your  honour  pleases.  I  scorn  to  impose  upon  any 
gentleman  in  misfortunes  :  I  wish  you  well  out  of  them, 
for  my  part.  Your  honour  can  take  nothing  amiss  of 
me  ;  I  only  does  my  duty,  what  I  am  bound  to  do ;  and 
as  you  says  you  don't  care  to  drink  anything,  what  will 
you  be  pleased  to  have  for  dinner  V 

Booth  then  complied  in  bespeaking  a  dish  of  meat,  and 
told  the  bailiff  he  would  drink  a  bottle  with  him  after 
dinner.  He  then  desired  the  favour  of  pen,  ink,  and 
paper,  and  a  messenger;  all  which  were  immediately 
procured  him,  the  bailiff  telling  him  he  might  send  wher- 
ever he  pleased,  and  repeating  his  concern  for  Booth's 
misfortunes,  and  a  hearty  desire  to  see  the  end  of  them. 

The  messenger  was  just  despatched  with  the  letter, 
when  who  should  arrive  but  honest  Atkinson.  A  sol- 
dier of  the  guards,  belonging  to  the  same  company  with 
the  sergeant,  and  who  had  known  Booth  at  Gibraltar,  had 
seen  the  arrest,  and  heard  the  orders  given  to  the  coach- 
man. This  fellow,  accidentally  meeting  Atkinson,  had 
acquainted  him  with  the  whole  affair. 

At  the  appearance  of  Atkinson,  joy  immediately  over- 
spread the  countenance  of  Booth.  The  ceremonials 
which  passed  between  them  are  unnecessary  to  be  re- 
peated. Atkinson  was  soon  despatched  to  the  attorney 
and  to  Mrs.  Ellison,  as  the  roader  has  before  heard  from 
his  own  mouth. 

Booth  now  greatly  lamented  that  he  had  written  to 
his  wife ;  he  thought  she  might  have  been  acquainted 
with  the  affair  better  by  the  sergeant.    Booth  begged  him, 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  301 

however,  to  do  everything  in  his  power  to  comfort  her ; 
to  assure  her  that  he  was  in  perfect  health  and  good 
spirits;  and  to  lessen,  as  much  as  possible,  the  concern 
which  he  knew  she  would  have  at  reading  his  letter. 

The  sergeant,  however,  as  the  reader  has  seen,  brought 
himself  the  first  account  of  the  arrest ;  indeed,  the  other 
messenger  did  not  arrive  till  a  full  hour  afterward. 
This  was  not  owing  to  any  slowness  of  his,  but  to  many 
previous  errands  which  he  was  to  execute  before  the 
delivery  of  the  letter  ;  for,  notwithstanding  the  earnest 
desire  which  the  bailiff  had  declared  to  see  Booth  out  of 
his  troubles,  he  had  ordered  the  porter,  who  was  his  fol- 
lower, to  call  upon  two  or  three  other  bailiffs,  and  as 
many  attorneys,  to  try  to  load  his  prisoner  with  as  many 
actions  as  possible. 

Here  the  reader  may  be  apt  to  conclude  that  the  bai- 
liff, instead  of  being  a  friend,  was  really  an  enemy  to 
poor  Booth;  but  in  fact  he  was  not  so.  His  desire  was 
no  more  than  to  accumulate  bail-bonds ;  for  the  bailiff 
was  reckoned  an  honest  and  good  sort  of  man  in  his  way, 
and  had  no  more  malice  against  the  bodies  in  his  cus- 
tody, than  a  butcher  has  to  those  in  his  ;  and  as  the  latter, 
when  he  takes  the  kjnife  in  his  hand,  has  no  idea  but  of 
the  joints  into  which  he  is  to  cut  the  carcass,  so  the  for- 
mer, when  he  handles  his  writ,  has  no  other  design  but 
to  cut  out  the  body  into  as  many  bail-bonds  as  possible. 
As  to  the  life  of  the  animal,  or  the  liberty  of  the  man, 
they  are  thoughts  which  never  obtrude  themselves  on 
either. 


Chapter  II. — Containing  an  account  of  Mr.  Booth's  fellow-sufferers. 

Before  we  return  to  Amelia,  we  must  detain  our  read- 
er a  little  longer  with  Mr.  Booth,  in  the  custody  of  Mr. 
Bondum,  the  bailiff,  who  now  informed  his  prisoner  that 
he  was  welcome  to  the  liberty  of  the  house  with  the 
other  gentlemen. 

Booth  asked  who  these  gentlemen  were.  "One  of 
them,  sir,"  says  Mr.  Bondum,  "  is  a  very  great  writer,  or 
author,  as  they  call  him  :  he  has  been  here  these  five 
weeks,  at  the  suit  of  a  bookseller,  for  eleven  pounds  odd 
money ;  but  he  expects  to  be  discharged  in  a  day  or  two, 
for  he  has  written  out  the  debt.  He  is  now  writing  for 
26 


302  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

five  or  six  booksellers,  and  he  will  get  you  sometimes, 
when  he  sits  to  it,  a  matter  of  fifteen  shillings  a  day  ;  for 
he  is  a  very  good  pen,  they  say,  but  is  apt  to  be  idle. 
Some  days  he  won't  write  above  five  hours  ;  but  at  other 
times  I  have  known  him  at  it  above  sixteen."     "Ay!" 
cries  Booth,  "  pray   what  are  his  productions  1     What 
does  he  write  V    "Why,  sometimes,"  answered  Bondum, 
"  he  writes  your  history  books  for  your  numbers,  and 
sometimes  your  verses,  your  poems,  what  do  you  call 
them  1  and  then  again  he  writes  news  for  your  news- 
papers."    "  Ah,  indeed  !  he  is  a  most  extraordinary  man, 
truly.     How  does  he  get  his  news  here  V     "  Why,  he 
makes  it,  as  he  does  your  parliament  speeches  for  your 
magazines.     He  reads  them  to  us  sometimes  over  a 
bowl  of  punch.     To  be  sure,  it  is  all  one  as  if  one  was 
in  the  parliament-house  ;  it  is  about  liberty  and  freedom, 
and  about  the  constitution  of  England.     I  say  nothing, 
for  my  part ;  for  I  will  keep  my  neck  out  of  a  halter : 
but,  faith,  he  makes  it  out  plainly  to  me  that  all  matters 
are  not  as  they  should  be.     I  am  all  for  liberty,  for  my 
part."     "  Is  that  so  consistent  with  your  calling?"  cries 
Booth;  "I  thought,  my  friend,  you  had  lived  by  depri- 
ving men  of  their  liberty."     "That's  another  matter," 
cries  the  bailiff;  "  that's  all  according  to  law,  and  in  the 
way  of  business.     To  be  sure,  men  must  be  obliged  to 
pay  their  debts,  or  else  there  would  be  an  end  of  every- 
thing."    Booth  desired  the  bailiff  to  give  him  his  opinion 
of  liberty  :  upon  which  he  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then 
cried  out,  "  Oh,  it  is  a  fine  thing,  it  is  a  very  fine  thing,  and 
the  constitution  of  England."     Booth  told  him,  that  by 
the  old  constitution  of  England,  he  had  heard  that  men 
could  not  be  arrested  for  debt ;  to  which  the  bailiff  an- 
swered, that  must  have  been  in  very  bad  times  ;  "  because 
as  why,"  says  he,  "  would  it  not  be  the  hardest  thing  in 
the  world  if  a  man  could  not  arrest  another  for  a  just  and 
lawful  debt  T  besides,  sir,  you  must  be  mistaken,  for  how 
could  that  ever  be  ?    Is  not  liberty  the  constitution  of  Eng- 
land ?  well,  and  is  not  the  constitution,  as  a  man  may  say, 
whereby  the  constitution,  that  is  the  law  and  liberty, 
and  all  that—" 

Booth  had  a  little  mercy  upon  the  poor  bailiff  when  he 
found  him  rounding  in  this  manner,  and  told  him  he  had 
made  the  matter  very  clear.  Booth  then  proceeded  to 
inquire  after  the  other  gentlemen,  his  fellows  in  afliic- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  303 

tioii;  upon  which  Bondum  acquainted  him,  that  one  of 
the  prisoners  was  a  poor  fellow.  "  He  calls  himself  a 
gentleman,"  said  Bondum ;  "  but  I  am  sure  I  never  saw 
anything  genteel  by  him.  In  a  week  that  he  has  been 
in  my  house,  he  has  drunk  only  part  of  one  bottle  of 
wine.  1  intend  to  carry  him  to  Newgate  within  a  day 
or  two,  if  he  cannot  find  bail,  which,  I  suppose,  he  will 
not  be  able  to  do  ;  for  everybody  says  he  is  an  undone 
man.  He  has  run  out  all  he  has  by  losses  in  business, 
and  one  way  or  other;  and  he  has  a  wife  and  seven 
children.  Here  was  the  whole  family  here  the  other 
day,  all  howling  together.  I  never  saw  such  abeggarly 
crew  ;  I  was  almost  ashamed  to  see  them  in  my  house: 
I  thought  they  seemed  fitter  for  Bridewell  than  any  other 
place.  To  be  sure,  I  do  not  reckon  him  as  proper  com- 
pany for  such  as  you,  sir  ;  but  there  is  another  prisoner 
in  the  house  that  I  dare  say  you  will  like  very  much. 
He  is,  indeed,  very  much  of  a  gentleman,  and  spends 
his  money  like  one:  1  have  had  him  only  three  days, 
and  I  am  afraid  he  won't  stay  much  longer.  They  say, 
indeed,  he  is  a  gamester  ;  but  what  is  that  to  me  or  any 
one,  as  long  as  a  man  appears  as  a  gentleman  ]  1  al- 
ways love  to  speak  by  people  as  I  find  :  and,  in  my  opin- 
ion, he  is  fit  company  for  the  greatest  lord  in  the  land  ; 
for  he  has  very  good  clothes,  and  money  enough.  He 
is  not  here  for  debt,  but  upon  a  judge's  warrant  for  an 
assault  and  battery;  for  the  tipstaff  locks  up  here." 

The  bailiflfwas  thus  haranguing,  when  he  was  inter- 
rupted by  the  arrival  of  the  attorney,  whom  the  trusty 
sergeant  had,  with  the  utmost  expedition,  found  out,  and 
despatched  to  the  relief  of  his  distressed  friend.  But, 
before  we  proceed  any  further  with  the  captain,  we  will 
return  to  poor  Amelia,  for  whom,  considering  the  situa- 
tion in  which  we  left  her,  the  good-natured  reader  may 
be,  perhaps,  in  no  small  degree  solicitous. 


Chapter  III.— Containing  some  extraordinary  behaviour  in  Mrs. 
Ellison. 

The  sergeant  being  departed  to  convey  Mrs.  Ellison 
to  the  captain,  his  wife  went  to  fetch  Ameha's  children 
to  their  mother. 

Amelia's  concern  for  the  distresses  of  her  husband 


304  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

was  aggravated  at  the  sight  of  her  children.  "  Good 
heavens!"  she  cried,  "  what  wi]i,  what  can  become  of 
these  poor  little  wretches  1  why  have  1  produced  these 
little  creatures  only  to  give  them  a  share  of  poverty 
and  misery?"  At  which  words  she  embraced  them 
eagerly  in  her  arms,  and  bedewed  them  both  with  her 
tears. 

The  children's  eyes  soon  overflowed  as  fast  as  their 
mother's,  though  neither  of  them  knew  the  cause  of 
her  affliction.  The  little  boy,  who  was  the  elder,  and 
much  the  sharper  of  the  two,  imputed  the  agonies  of 
his  mother  to  her  illness,  according  to  the  account 
brought  to  his  father  in  his  presence. 

When  Amelia  became  acquainted  with  the  child's 
apprehensions,  she  soon  satisfied  him  that  she  was  in  a 
perfect  state  of  health ;  at  which  the  Uttle  thing  ex- 
pressed great  satisfaction,  and  said,  he  was  glad  she 
was  well  again.  Amelia  told  him  she  had  not  been  in 
the  least  disordered.  Upon  which,  the  innocent  cried 
out,  "  La !  how  can  people  tell  such  fibs  1  a  great  tall 
man  told  my  papa  you  was  taken  very  ill  at  Mrs.  Some- 
body's shop ;  and  my  poor  papa  presentlj^  ran  down 
stairs — I  was  afraid  he  would  have  broken  his  neck — to 
come  to  you." 

"  Oh  ihe  villains  !"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson :  "  what  a 
stratagem  was  here  to  take  away  your  husband  !" 

"  Take  away  V  answered  the  child  :  "  what,  has  any- 
body taken  away  papa? — sure,  that  naughty,  fibbing 
man  has  not  taken  away  papaT" 

Amelia  begged  Mrs.  Atkinson  to  say  something  to 
her  children ;  for  that  her  spirits  were  overpowered. 
She  then  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  and  gave  a  full  vent 
to  a  passion  almost  too  strong  for  her  delicate  consti- 
tution. 

The  scene  that  followed,  during  some  minutes,  is 
beyond  my  power  of  description  ;  1  must  beg  the  readers' 
hearts  to  suggest  it  to  themselves.  The  children  hung 
on  the  mother,  whom  they  endeavoured  in  vain  to  com- 
fort ;  as  Mrs.  Atkinson  did  in  vain  attempt  to  pacify 
them,  telling  them  all  would  be  well,  and  they  would 
soon  see  their  papa  again. 

At  length,  partly  by  the  persuasions  of  Mrs.  Atkinson 
partly  from  consideration  of  her  little  ones,  and  more, 
perhaps,  from  the  relief  which  she  had  acquired  by  her 
tears,  Amelia  became  a  little  composed. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  305 

NothiiifT  worth  notice  passed  in  this  miserable  com- 
pany from  this  time  till  the  return  of  Mrs.  Ellison  from 
the  bailiff's  house ;  and  to  draw  out  scenes  of  wretch- 
edness to  too  great  a  length  is  a  task  very  uneasy  to 
the  writer,  and  for  which  none  but  readers  of  a  most 
gloomy  complexion  will  think  themselves  ever  obliged 
to  his  labours. 

At  length  Mrs.  Ellison  arrived,  and  entered  the  room 
with  an  air  of  gayety,  rather  misbecoming  the  occasion. 
When  she  had  seated  herself  in  a  chair,  she  told  Amelia 
that  the  captain  was  very  well,  and  in  good  spirits  ;  and 
that  he  earnestly  desired  her  to  keep  up  hers.  "  Come, 
madam,"  said  she,  "  don't  be  disconsolate ;  I  hope  we 
shall  soon  be  able  to  get  him  out  of  his  troubles.  The 
debts,  indeed,  amount  to  more  than  I  expected ;  how- 
ever, ways  may  be  found  to  redeem  him.  He  must  own 
himself  guilty  of  some  rashness  in  going  out  of  the  verge, 
when  he  knew  to  what  he  was  liable;  but  that  is  now 
not  to  be  remedied.  If  he  had  followed  my  advice,  this 
had  not  happened  ;  but  men  will  be  headstrong." 

"  I  cannot  bear  this,"  cries  Amelia  :  "  shall  I  hear 
that  best  of  creatures  blamed  for  his  tenderness  to  me  ]" 

"  Well,  I  will  not  blame  him,"  answered  Mrs.  Elli- 
son ;  "  I  am  sure  I  propose  nothing  but  to  serve  him ; 
and  if  you  will  do  as  much  to  serve  him  yourself,  he  will 
not  be  long  a  prisoner." 

"  I  do  ]"  cries  Amelia  ;  "  oh  heavens  !  is  there  a  thing 
upon  earth — " 

"  Yes,  there  is  a  thing  upon  earth,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison, 
*'  and  a  very  easy  thing  too  ;  and  yet,  I  will  venture  my 
life,  you  start  when  1  propose  it.  And  yet,  when  I  con- 
sider that  you  are  a  woman  of  understanding,  I  know 
not  why  I  should  think  so ;  for  sure  you  must  have  too 
much  good  sense  to  imagine  that  you  can  cry  your  hus- 
band out  of  prison.  If  this  would  have  done,  I  see  you 
have  almost  cried  your  eyes  out  already.  And  yet  you 
may  do  the  business  by  a  much  pleasanter  way  than  by 
crying  and  bawling." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  madam  V  cries  Amelia.  "  For 
my  part,  1  cannot  guess  your  meaning." 

"  Before  I  tell  you,  then,  madanf,"  answered  Mrs. 
Ellison,  "  I  must  inform  you,  if  you  do  not  already  know 
it,  that  the  captain  is  charged  with  actions  to  the  amount 
of  near  five  hundred  pounds.  I  am  sure  I  would  wil- 
lingly be  his  bail ;  but  I  know  my  bail  would  not  be  taken 
26* 


306  THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA. 

for  that  sum.  You  must  consider,  therefore,  madam^ 
what  chance  you  have  of  redeeming  him  ;  unless  you 
choose,  as  perhaps  some  wives  would,  that  he  should 
lie  all  his  life  in  prison." 

At  these  words  Amelia  discharged  a  shower  of  tears, 
and  gave  every  mark  of  the  most  frantic  grief. 

"  Why,  there  now,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  while  you 
will  indulge  these  extravagant  passions,  how  can  you 
be  capable  of  listening  to  the  voice  of  reason  I  1  know 
I  am  a  fool  in  concerning  myself  thus  with  the  affairs 
of  others.  I  know  the  thankless  office  I  undertake ; 
and  yet  I  love  you  so,  my  dear  Mrs.  Booth,  that  I  can- 
not bear  to  see  you  afflicted  ;  and  I  would  comfort  you, 
if  you  would  suffer  me.  Let  me  beg  you  to  make  your 
mind  easy ;  and  within  these  two  days  I  will  engage  to 
set  your  husband  at  liberty.  Harkee,  child,  only  be- 
have like  a  woman  of  spirit  this  evening,  and  keep  your 
appointment,  notwithstanding  what  has  happened  ;  and 
I  am  convinced  there  is  one,  who  has  the  power  and  the 
will  to  serve  you." 

Mrs.  Ellison  spoke  the  latter  part  of  her  speech  in  a 
whisper,  so  that  Mrs.  Atkinson,  who  was  then  engaged 
with  the  children,  might  not  hear  her  ;  but  Amelia  an- 
swered aloud,  and  said,  "  What  appointment  would  you 
have  me  keep  this  evening  V 

"  Nay,  nay,  if  you  have  forgotten,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison, 
"  I  will  tell  you  more  another  time  ;  but  come,  will  you 
go  home  1  my  dinner  is  ready  by  this  time,  and  you 
shall  dine  with  me." 

"  Talk  not  to  me  of  dinners,"  cries  Amelia ;  "  my 
stomach  is  too  full  already." 

"  Nay,  but,  dear  madam,"  answered  Mrs.  EUison, 
"  let  me  beseech  you  to  go  home  with  me.  1  do  not 
care,"  says  she,  w^hispering,  "to  speak  before  some 
folks." 

"  I  have  no  secret,  madam,  in  the  world,"  replied 
Amelia,  aloud,  "  which  I  would  not  communicate  to 
this  lady  ;  for  I  shall  always  acknowledge  the  highest 
obligation  to  her  for  the  secrets  she  has  imparted  to 
me." 

*'  Madam,"  says  Mrs.  Ellison,  "  I  do  not  interfere 
with  obligations.  I  am  glad  the  lady  has  obliged  you 
so  much;  and  I  wish  all  people  were  equally  mindful 
of  obligations.     I  hope  I  have  omitted  no  opportunity 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  307 

of  endeavouring  to  oblige  Mrs.  Booth,  as  well  as  I  have 
some  other  folks." 

"If  by  other  folks,  madam,  you  mean  me,"  cries  Mrs. 
Atkinson,  "  I  confess  1  sincerely  believe  you  intended 
the  same  obligations  to  us  both  ;  and  I  have  the  pleasure 
to  think  it  is  owing  to  me  that  this  lady  is  not  as  much 
obliged  to  you  as  I  am." 

"  I  protest,  madam,  I  can  hardly  guess  your  mean- 
ing," said  Mrs.  Ellison.  "  Do  you  really  intend  to 
affront  me,  madam  V 

"  I  intend  to  preserve  innocence  and  virtue,  if  it  be 
in  my  power,  madam,"  answered  the  other ;  •*  and  sure 
nothing  but  the  most  eager  resolution  to  destroy  it  could 
induce  you  to  mention  such  an  appointment  at  such  a 
time." 

"  I  did  not  expect  this  treatment  from  you,  madam," 
cries  Mrs.  Ellison  :  "  such  ingratitude  I  could  not  have 
believed,  had  it  been  reported  to  me  by  any  other." 

"  Such  impudence,"  answered  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  must 
exceed,  I  think,  all  belief;  but  when  women  once 
abandon  that  modesty  which  is  the  characteristic  of 
Iheir  sex,  they  seldom  set  any  bounds  to  their  assu- 
rance." 

*'  I  could  not  have  believed  this  to  have  been  in  human 
nature,"  cries  Mrs.  Ellison.  "  Is  this  the  woman  whom 
I  have  fed,  have  clothed,  have  supported  ;  who  owes  to 
my  charity,  and  my  intercessions,  that  she  is  not  at  this 
day  destitute  of  all  the  necessaries  of  life?" 

"  I  own  it  all,"  answered  Mrs.  Atkinson  ;  "  and  I  add 
the  favour  of  a  masquerade  ticket  to  the  number. 
Could  I  have  thought,  madam,  that  you  would  before 
my  face  have  asked  another  lady  to  go  to  the  same 
place  with  the  same  man  ?  But  1  ask  your  pardon ;  I 
impute  rather  more  assurance  to  you  than  you  are  mis- 
tress of.  You  have  endeavoured  to  keep  the  assigna- 
tion a  secret  from  me,  and  it  was  by  mere  accident  only 
that  1  discovered  it;  unless  there  are  some  guardian 
angels  that  in  general  protect  innocence  and  virtue ; 
though,  I  may  say,  I  have  not  always  found  them  so 
watchful." 

"Indeed,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Ellison,  "you  are  not 
worth  my  answer,  nor  will  I  stay  a  moment  longer  with 
such  a  person.  So,  Mrs.  Booth,  you  have  your  choice, 
madam,  whether  you  will  go  with  me,  or  remain  in  the 
company  of  this  lady." 


308  THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA. 

"  If  SO,  madam,"  answered  Mrs.  Booth,  "  I  shall  not 
be  long  in  determining  to  stay  where  I  am." 

Mrs.  Ellison  then,  casting  a  look  of  great  indignation 
at  both  the  ladies,  made  a  short  speech  full  of  invectives 
against  Mrs.  Atkinson,  and  not  without  oblique  hints  of 
ingratitude  against  poor  Amelia;  after  which,  she  burst 
out  of  the  room,  and  out  of  the  house  ;  and  made  haste 
to  her  own  home,  in  a  condition  of  mind,  to  which  for- 
tune, without  guilt,  cannot,  1  believe,  reduce  any  one. 

Indeed,  how  much  the  superiority  of  misery  is  on 
the  side  of  wickedness,  may  appear  to  every  reader 
who  will  compare  the  present  situation  of  Amelia  with 
that  of  Mrs.  Ellison.  Fortune  had  attacked  the  former 
with  almost  the  highest  degree  of  her  malice.  She  was 
involved  in  a  scene  of  most  exquisite  distress;  and  her 
husband,  her  principal  comfort,  torn  violently  from  her 
arms ;  yet  her  sorrow,  however  exquisite,  was  all  soft 
and  tender  ;  nor  was  she  without  many  consolations. 
Her  case,  however  hard,  was  not  absolutely  desperate  ; 
for  scarce  any  condition  of  fortune  can  be  so.  Art  and 
industry,  chance  and  friends,  have  often  relieved  the 
most  distressed  circumstances,  and  converted  them  into 
opulence.  In  all  these  she  had  hopes  on  this  side  the 
grave,  and  perfect  virtue  and  innocence  gave  her  the 
strongest  assurances  on  the  other.  Whereas,  in  the 
bosom  of  Mrs.  Ellison,  all  was  storm  and  tempest ; 
anger,  revenge,  fear,  and  pride,  like  so  many  raging 
furies,  possessed  her  mind,  and  tortured  her  with  disap- 
pointment and  shame.  Loss  of  reputation,  which  is 
generally  irreparable,  was  to  be  her  lot ;  loss  of  friends 
is  of  this  the  certain  consequence :  all  on  this  side  the 
grave  appeared  dreary  and  comfortless,  and  endless 
misery  on  the  other  closed  the  gloomy  prospect. 

Hence,  my  wrothy  reader,  console  thyself,  that  how- 
ever few  of  the  other  good  things  of  life  are  thy  lot,  the 
best  of  all  things,  which  is  innocence,  is  always  within 
thy  own  power ;  and  though  Fortune  may  make  thee 
often  unhappy,  she  can  never  make  thee  completely 
and  irreparably  miserable  without  thy  own  consent. 


THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA.  309 


Chapter  IV. — Containing,  among  many  matters,  the  exemplary 
behaviour  of  Colonel  James. 

When  Mrs.  Ellison  was  departed,  Mrs.  Atkinson  began 
to  apply  all  her  art  to  sooth  and  comfort  Amelia;  but 
was  presently  prevented  by  her:  "  1  am  ashamed,  dear 
madam,"  said  Amelia,  "  of  having  indulged  my  affliction 
so  much  at  your  expense.  The  suddenness  of  the  oc- 
casion is  my  only  excuse ;  for,  had  I  had  time  to  sum- 
mon my  resolution  to  my  assistance,  I  hope  I  am  mis- 
tress of  more  patience  than  you  have  hitherto  seen  me 
exert.  I  know,  madam,  in  my  unwarrantable  excesses, 
I  have  been  guilty  of  many  transgressions  ;  first,  against 
that  divine  will  and  pleasure,  without  whose  permission, 
at  least,  no  human  accident  can  happen;  in  the  next 
place,  madam,  if  anything  can  aggravate  such  a  fault,  I 
have  transgressed  the  laws  of  friendship  as  well  as  de- 
cency, in  throwing  upon  you  some  part  of  the  load  of 
my  grief;  and  again,  I  have  sinned  against  common 
sense,  which  should  teach  me,  instead  of  weakly  and 
heavily  lamenting  my  misfortunes,  to  rouse  all  my  spir- 
its to  remove  them.  In  this  light,  I  am  shocked  at  my 
own  folly,  and  am  resolved  to  leave  my  children  under 
your  care,  and  go  directly  to  my  husband.  I  may  com- 
fort him  :  I  may  assist  him:  I  may  relieve  him.  There 
is  nothing  now  too  difficult  for  me  to  undertake." 

Mrs.  Atkinson  greatly  approved  and  complimented  her 
friend  on  all  the  former  part  of  her  speech,  except  on 
what  related  to  herself,  on  which  she  spoke  very  civilly, 
and,  I  believe,  with  great  truth  ;  but  as  to  her  determina- 
tion of  going  to  her  husband,  she  endeavoured  to  dis- 
suade her,  at  least  she  begged  her  to  defer  it  for  the  pres- 
ent, and  till  the  sergeant  returned  home.  She  then  re- 
minded Amelia  that  it  was  now  past  five  in  the  after- 
noon, and  that  she  had  not  taken  any  refreshment  but  a 
dish  of  tea  the  whole  day ;  and  desired  she  would  give 
her  leave  to  procure  her  a  chicken,  or  anything  she  liked 
better,  for  her  dinner. 

Amelia  thanked  her  friend,  and  said  she  would  sit 
down  with  her  to  whatever  she  pleased ;  "  but  if  I  do 
not  eat,"  said  she,  "  I  would  not  have  you  impute  it  to 
anything  but  want  of  appetite ;  for  I  assure  you,  all 
things  are  equally  indifferent  to  me.     I  am  more  solicit- 


310  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

ous  about  these  poor  little  things,  who  have  not  been 
used  to  fast  so  long-.  Heaven  knows  what  may  here- 
after be  their  fate." 

Mrs.  Atkinson  bid  her  hope  the  best,  and  then  recom- 
mended her  children  to  the  care  of  her  maid. 

And  now  arrived  a  servant  from  Mrs.  James,  with  an 
invitation  to  Captain  Booth  and  to  his  lady  to  dine  with 
the  colonel  the  da}^  after  the  next.  This  a  little  per- 
plexed Amelia;  but  after  a  short  consideration,  she  de- 
spatched an  answer  to  Mrs.  James,  in  which  she  con- 
ciselj^  informed  her  of  what  had  happened. 

The  honest  sergeant,  who  had  been  on  his  legs  almost 
the  whole  day,  now  returned,  and  brought  Amelia  a 
short  letter  from  her  husband;  in  which  he  gave  her  the 
most  solemn  assurances  of  his  health  and  spirits;  and 
begged  her,  with  great  earnestness,  to  take  care  to  pre- 
serve her  own;  which  if  she  did,  he  said  he  had  no 
doubt  but  that  they  should  shortly  be  happy.  He  added 
somethhig  of  hopes  from  my  lord,  with  which  Mrs.  Elli- 
son had  amused  him ;  and  which  served  only  to  destroy 
the  comfort  that  Amelia  received  from  the  rest  of  his 
letter. 

While  Amelia,  the  sergeant,  and  his  lady  were  en- 
gaged in  a  cold  collation,  for  which  purpose  a  cold 
chicken  was  procured  from  the  tavern  for  the  ladies,  and 
two  pounds  of  cold  beef  for  the  sergeant,  a  violent 
knocking  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  presently  after- 
ward Colonel  James  entered  the  room.  After  proper 
compliments  had  passed,  the  colonel  told  Amelia  that 
her  letter  was  brought  to  Mrs.  James  while  the}'  were 
at  table,  and  that  on  her  showing  it  to  him,  he  had  im- 
mediately rose  up,  made  an  apology  to  his  company,  and 
took  a  chair  to  her.  He  spoke  to  her  with  great  tender- 
ness on  the  occasion,  and  desired  her  to  make  herself 
easy  ;  assuring  her  that  he  would  leave  nothing  in  his 
power  undone  to  serve  her  husband.  He  then  gave  her 
an  invitation,  in  his  wife's  name,  to  his  own  house,  in 
the  most  pressing  manner. 

Amelia  returned  iiim  very  hearty  thanks  for  all  his 
kind  offers,  but  begged  to  decline  that  of  an  apartment 
in  his  house.  She  said,  as  she  could  not  leave  her  chil- 
dren, so  neither  could  she  think  of  bringing  such  a  trou- 
ble with  her  into  his  family ;  and  though  the  colonel 
gave  her  many  assurances  that  her  children,  as  well  as 
herself,  would  be  very  welcome  to  Mrs.  James,  and  even 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  311 

betook  himself  to  entreaties,  she  still  persisted  obsti- 
nately ill  her  refusal. 

In  real  truth,  Amelia  had  taken  a  vast  affection  for 
Mrs.  Atkinson,  of  the  comfort  of  whose  company  she 
could  not  bear  to  be  deprived  in  her  distress  ;  nor  to  ex- 
change it  for  that  of  Mrs.  James,  to  whom  she  had  late- 
ly conceived  no  little  dislike. 

The  colonel,  when  he  found  he  could  not  prevail  with 
Amelia  to  accept  his  invitation,  desisted  from  any  fur- 
ther sohcitations.  He  then  took  a  bank-bill  of  fifty 
pounds  from  his  pocketbook,  and  said,  "  You  will  par- 
don me,  dear  madam,  if  I  choose  to  impute  your  refusal 
of  my  house  rather  to  a  dislike  of  my  wife,  whom  I  will 
not  pretend  to  be  the  most  agreeable  of  w^omen,  (all 
men,"  said  he,  sighing,  "  have  not  Captain  Booth's  for- 
tune,) than  to  any  aversion  or  anger  to  me ;  I  must  in- 
sist upon  it,  therefore,  to  make  your  present  habitation 
as  easy  to  you  as  possible :  I  hope,  madam,  you  will 
not  deny  me  this  happiness ;  I  beg  you  will  honour  me 
with  the  acceptance  of  this  trifle."  He  then  put  the 
note  into  her  hand,  and  declared  that  the  honour  of 
touching  it  was  worth  a  hundred  times  that  sum. 

"  I  protest.  Colonel  James,"  cries  Amelia,  blushing, 
"  I  know  not  what  to  do  or  say,  your  goodness  so  great- 
ly confounds  me.  Can  I,  who  am  so  well  acquainted 
with  the  many  great  obligations  Mr.  Booth  has  already 
to  your  generosity,  consent  that  you  should  add  more  to 
a  debt  we  never  can  pay  ]" 

The  colonel  stopped  her  short,  protesting  that  she 
misplaced  the  obligation  ;  for  that,  if  to  confer  the  high- 
est happiness  was  to  oblige,  he  was  obliged  to  her  ac- 
ceptance. "  And  I  do  assure  you,  madam,"  said  he,  "  if 
this  trifling  sum,  or  a  much  larger,  can  contribute  to 
your  ease,  I  shall  consider  myself  as  the  happiest  man 
upon  earth  in  being  able  to  supply  it ;  and  you,  madam, 
my  greatest  benefactor  in  receiving  it." 

Ameha  then  put  the  note  into  her  pocket;  and  they 
entered  into  a  conversation,  in  which  many  civil  things 
were  said  on  both  sides ;  but  what  was  chiefly  worth 
remark  was,  that  Amelia  had  almost  her  husband  con- 
stantly in  her  mouth,  and  the  colonel  never  mentioned 
him  :  the  former  seemed  desirous  to  lay  all  obligations, 
as  much  as  possible,  to  the  account  of  her  husband ; 
and  the  latter  endeavoured,  with  the  utmost  delicacy, 


312  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

to  insinuate  that  her  happiness  was  the  main,  and  in- 
deed only  point,  which  he  had  in  view. 

Amelia  had  made  no  doubt,  at  the  colonel's  first  ap- 
pearance, but  that  he  intended  to  go  directly  to  her  hus- 
band :  when  he  dropped  therefore  a  hint  of  his  intention 
to  visit  him  next  morning,  she  appeared  visibly  shocked 
at  the  delay.  The  colonel,  perceiving  this,  said,  "  How- 
ever inconvenient  it  may  be,  yet,  madam,  if  it  will  oblige 
you,  or  if  you  desire  it,  1  will  even  go  to-night."  Amelia 
answered,  "  My  husband  will  be  far  from  desiring  to  de- 
rive any  good  from  your  inconvenience ;  but  if  you  put 
it  to  me,  I  must  be  excused  by  saying,  I  desire  nothing 
more  in  the  world  than  to  send  him  so  great  a  comfort 
as  1  know  he  will  receive  from  the  presence  of  such  a 
friend."  "  Then  to  show^  you,  madam,"  cries  the  colo- 
nel, "  that  1  desire  nothing  more  in  the  world  than  to 
give  you  pleasure,  1  will  go  to  him  immediately." 

Amelia  then  bethought  herself  of  the  sergeant,  and 
told  the  colonel,  his  old  acquaintance  Atkinson,  whom 
he  had  known  at  Gibraltar,  was  then  in  the  house,  and 
would  conduct  him  to  the  place.  The  sergeant  was  im- 
mediately called  in,  paid  his  respects  to  the  colonel,  and 
was  acknowledged  by  him.  They  both  immediately 
set  forward,  Amelia  to  the  utmost  of  her  power  pressing 
their  departure. 

Mrs.  Atkinson  now  returned  to  Amelia,  and  was  by 
her  acquainted  with  the  colonel's  late  generosity;  for 
her  heart  so  boiled  over  with  gratitude,  that  she  could 
not  conceal  the  ebullition.  Amelia  likewise  gave  her 
friend  a  full  narrative  of  the  colonel's  former  behaviour 
and  friendship  to  her  husband,  as  well  abroad  as  in  Eng- 
land ;  and  ended  with  declaring  that  she  believed  him  to 
be  the  most  generous  man  upon  earth. 

Mrs.  Atkinson  agreed  with  AmeUa's  conclusion,  and 
said  she  was  glad  to  hear  there  was  any  such  man. 
They  then  proceeded  with  the  children  to  the  tea-table, 
where  panegyric,  and  not  scandal,  was  the  topic  of  their 
conversation ;  and  of  this  panegyric  the  colonel  was  the 
subject;  both  the  ladies  seeming  to  vie  with  each  other 
in  celebrating  the  praises  of  his  goodness. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  313 


Chapter  V. — Comments  upon  authors. 

Having  left  Amelia  in  as  comfortable  a  situation  as 
could  possibly  be  expected,  her  immediate  distresses 
relieved,  and  her  heart  filled  with  great  hopes  from  the 
friendship  of  the  colonel,  we  will  now  return  to  Booth, 
who,  when  the  attorney  and  sergeant  had  left  him,  re- 
ceived a  visit  from  that  great  author,  of  whom  honour- 
able mention  is  made  in  our  second  chapter. 

Booth,  as  the  reader  may  be  pleased  to  remember, 
was  a  pretty  good  master  of  the  classics  ;  for  his  father, 
though  he  designed  his  son  for  the  army,  did  not  think 
it  necessary  to  breed  him  up  a  blockhead.  He  did 
not,  perhaps,  imagine  that  a  competent  share  of  Latin 
and  Greek  would  make  his  son  either  a  pedant  or  a 
coward :  he  considered  likewise,  probably,  that  the  life 
of  a  soldier  is,  in  general,  a  life  of  idleness ;  and  might 
think,  that  the  spare  hours  of  an  officer  in  country  quar- 
ters would  be  as  well  employed  with  a  book  as  in  saun- 
tering about  the  streets,  loitering  in  a  coffee-house,  sot- 
ting in  a  tavern,  or  in  laying  schemes  to  debauch  and 
ruin  a  set  of  harmless,  ignorant  country  girls. 

As  Booth  was  therefore  what  might  be  well  called,  in 
this  age  at  least,  a  man  of  learning,  he  began  to  dis- 
course with  our  author  on  subjects  of  literature.  "  T 
think,  sir,"  says  he,  "  that  Dr.  Swift  has  been  generally 
allowed  by  the  critics  in  this  kingdom  to  be  the  great- 
est master  of  humour  that  ever  wrote.  Indeed,  I  allow 
him  to  have  possessed  most  admirable  talents  of  this 
kind;  and  if  Rabelais  was  his  master,  I  think  he  proves 
the  truth  of  the  common  Greek  proverb.  That  the  scholar 
is  often  superior  to  the  master.  As  to  Cervantes,  I  do 
not  think  we  can  make  any  just  comparison;  for  though 
Mr.  Pope  compUments  him  with  sometimes  taking  Cer- 
vantes' serious  air — "  "1  remember  the  passage,"  cries 
the  author ; 

"  '  Oh  thou,  whatever  title  please  thine  ear, 
Dean,  Drapier,  Bickerstaff,  or  Gulliver; 
Whether  you  take  Cervantes'  serious  air. 
Or  laugh  and  shake  in  Rabelais'  easy  chair.' " 

"  You  are  right,  sir,"  said  Booth ;  "  but  though  I  should 
agree  that  the  doctor  has  sometimes  condescended  to 
27  O 


314  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

imitate  Rabelais,  I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  in  his 
works  the  least  attempt  in  the  manner  of  Cervantes. 
But  there  is  one  in  his  own  way,  and  whom  1  am  con- 
vinced he  studied  above  all  others;  you  guess,  I  believe, 
I  am  going  to  name  Lucian.  This  author,  I  say,  I  am 
convinced  he  followed ;  but  I  think  he  followed  him  at 
a  distance ;  as,  to  say  the  truth,  every  other  writer  of 
this  kind  has  done  in  my  opinion ;  for  none,  I  think, 
has  yet  equalled  him.  1  agree,  indeed,  entirely  with 
Mr.  Moyle,  in  his  discourse  on  the  age  of  the  Philopa- 
tris,  when  he  gives  him  the  epithet  of  the  incomparable 
Lucian ;  and  incomparable,  I  believe,  he  will  remain  as 
long  as  the  langUHge  in  which  he  wrote  shall  endure. 
What  an  inimitable  piece  of  humour  is  his  Cock  !"  "  I 
remember  it  very  well,"  cries  the  author ;  "  his  story  of 
a  Cock  and  a  Bull  is  excellent."  Booth  stared  at  this, 
and  asked  the  author  what  he  meant  by  the  Bull. 
'•  Nay,"  answered  he,  "  I  don't  know  very  well,  upon 
my  soul ;  it  is  a  long  time  since  I  read  him :  I  learned 
him  all  over  at  school ;  I  have  not  read  him  much  since. 
And  pray,  sir,"  said  he,  "  how  do  you  like  his  Pharsalia  1 
don't  you  think  Mr.  Rowe's  translation  a  very  fine 
one?''  Booth  replied,  "I  believe  we  are  talking  of  dif- 
ferent authors.  The  Pharsalia,  which  Mr.  Rowe  trans- 
lated, was  written  by  Lucan;  but  I  have  been  speaking 
of  Lucian,  a  Greek  writer,  and,  in  my  opinion,  the 
greatest  in  the  humorous  way  that  ever  the  world  pro- 
duced." "Ay!"  cries  the  author,  *'  he  was  indeed  so,  a 
very  excellent  writer  indeed.  I  fancy  a  translation  of 
him  would  sell  very  well."  "  I  do  not  know,  indeed," 
cries  Booth;  "a  good  translation  of  him  would  be  a 
valuable  book.  1  have  seen  a  wretched  one  published 
by  Mr,  Dryden,  but  translated  by  others,  who  in  many 
places  have  misunderstood  Lucian's  meaning,  and  have 
nowhere  preserved  the  spirit  of  the  original."  "That 
is  a  great  pity,"  says  the  author :  "  pray,  sir,  is  he  well 
translated  into  French?"  Booth  answered,  he  could  not 
tell ;  but  that  he  doubted  it  very  much,  having  never 
seen  a  good  version  into  that  language  out  of  the  Greek. 
"  To  confess  the  truth,  I  believe,"  said  he,  "  the  French 
translators  have  generally  consulted  the  Latin  only; 
which,  in  some  of  the  few  Greek  writers  I  have  read,  is 
intolerably  bad :  and  as  the  English  translators,  for  the 
most  part,  pursue   the  French,  we   may  easily  guess 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  315 

what  spirit  those  copies  of  bad  copies  must  preserve  of 
the  original." 

"Eg-ad,  you  are  a  shrewd  guesser,"  cries  the  author: 
"I  am  glad  the  booksellers  have  not  your  sagacity. 
But  how  should  it  be  otherwise,  considering  the  price 
they  pay  by  the  sheet  ?  The  Greek,  you  will  allow,  is 
a  hard  language  ;  and  there  are  few  gentlemen  that  write 
who  can  read  it  without  a  good  lexicon.  Now,  sir,  if 
we  were  to  afford  time  to  find  out  the  true  meaning  of 
words,  a  gentleman  would  not  get  bread  and  cheese  by 
liis  work.  If  one  was  to  be  paid,  indeed,  as  Mr.  Pope 
was  for  his  Homer —  Pray,  sir,  don't  you  think  that  the 
best  translation  in  the  world  V 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  think,  though  it  is  cer- 
tainly a  noble  paraphrase,  and  of  itself  a  fine  poem,  yet, 
in  some  places,  it  is  no  translation  at  all.  In  the  very 
beginning,  for  instance,  he  has  not  rendered  the  true 
force  of  the  author.  Homer  invokes  bis  muse  in  the 
five  first  lines  of  the  Iliad ;  and,  at  the  end  of  the  fifth, 
he  gives  his  reason : 

For  all  these  things,  says  he,  were  brought  about  by  the 
decree  of  Jupiter :  and,  therefore,  he  supposed  their 
true  sources  are  known  only  to  the  deities.  Now,  the 
translation  takes  no  more  notice  of  the  Si,  than  if  no 
such  word  had  been  there." 

"Very  possibly,"  answered  the  author;  "  it  is  a  long 
time  since  I  read  the  original.  Perhaps,  then,  he  fol- 
lowed the  French  translations.  I  observe,  indeed,  he 
talks  much  in  the  notes  of  Madame  Dacier  and  Monsieur 
Eustathius." 

Booth  had  now  received  conviction  enough  of  his 
friend's  knowledge  of  the  Greek  language;  without  at- 
tempting, therefore,  to  set  him  right,  he  made  a  sudden 
transition  to  the  Latin.  "  Pray,  sir,"  said  he,  "  as  you 
have  mentioned  Rowe's  translation  of  the  Pharsalia,  do 
you  remember  how  he  has  rendered  that  passage  in  the 
character  of  Cato  1 

*  Venerisque  huic  maximus  usus 
Progenies ;  urbi  pater  est,  urblque  marifus  :' 

for  I  apprehend  that  passage  is  generally  misunder- 
stood." 

02 


316  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"I  really  do  not  remember,"  answered  the  author. 
"  Pray,  sir,  what  do  you  take  to  be  the  meaning T' 

"  I  apprehend,  sir,"  replied  Booth,  "  that  by  these 
words,  Urbi  pater  est,  urbique  maritus,  Cato  is  represent- 
ed as  the  father  and  husband  to  the  city  of  Rome." 

"  Very  true,  sir,"  cries  the  author ;  "  very  fine  inde^  d. 
Not  only  the  father  of  his  country,  but  the  husband  too; 
very  noble,  truly!" 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  do  not  conceive  that 
to  have  been  Lucan's  meaning.  If  you  please  to  observe 
the  context,  Lucan,  having  recommended  the  temperance 
of  Cato  in  the  instances  of  diet  and  clothes,  proceeds  to 
venereal  pleasures  ;  of  which,  says  the  poet,  his  princi- 
pal use  was  procreation  :  then  he  adds,  Urbi  pater  est,  ur- 
bique maritus ;  that  he  became  a  father  and  a  husband  for 
the  sake  only  of  the  city." 

"  Upon  my  word,  that's  true,"  cries  the  author:  "  I  did 
not  think  of  it.  It  is  much  finer  than  the  other.  Urbis 
pater  est — what  is  the  other  ?  ay — urbis  maritus.  It  is 
certainly  as  you  say,  sir." 

Booth  was  by  this  pretty  well  satisfied  of  the  author's 
profound  learning :  however,  he  was  willing  to  try  him 
a  little  further.  He  asked  him,  therefore,  what  was  his 
opinion  of  Lucan  in  general,  and  in  what  class  of  writers 
he  ranked  him. 

The  author  stared  a  little  at  this  question  ;  and  after 
some  hesitation,  answered,  "  Certainly,  sir,  I  think  he  is 
a  fine  writer,  and  a  very  great  poet." 

"  I  am  very  much  of  the  same  opinion,"  cries  Booth : 
"  but  where  do  you  class  him  1  next  to  what  poet  do  you 
place  him  1" 

"  Let  me  see,"  cries  the  author :  "  where  do  I  class 
him  ?  next  to  whom  do  I  place  him  1  Ay ! — why  ! — 
why,  pray,  where  do  you  yourself  place  him  1" 

"  Why,  surely,"  cries  Booth, ''  if  he  is  not  to  be  placed 
in  the  first  rank  with  Homer,  and  Virgil,  and  Milton,  I 
think  clearly  he  is  at  the  head  of  the  second ;  before 
either  Statins  or  Silius  Italicus  ;  though  I  allow  to  each 
of  these  their  merits  ;  but,  perhaps,  an  epic  poem  was  be- 
yond the  genius  of  either.  I  own,  I  have  often  thought 
if  Statins  had  ventured  no  further  than  Ovid  or  Claudian, 
he  would  have  succeeded  better  ;  for  his  Sylvae  are,  in 
my  opinion,  much  better  than  his  Thebais." 

"  I  believe  I  was  of  the  same  opinion  formerly,"  said 
the  author. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  317 

"  And  for  what  reason  have  you  altered  it  T'  cries 
Booth. 

"  I  have  not  altered  it,"  answered  the  author ;  "  but,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  not  any  opinion  at  all  about 
these  matters  at  present.  I  do  not  trouble  my  head 
much  with  poetry ;  for  there  is  no  encouragement  to 
such  studies  in  this  age.  It  is  true,  indeed,  I  have  now 
and  then  written  a  poem  or  two  for  the  magazines,  but 
I  never  intend  to  write  any  more  ;  for  a  gentleman  is 
not  paid  for  his  time.  A  sheet  is  a  sheet  with  the  book- 
sellers, and  whether  it  be  in  prose  or  verse  they  make 
no  difference  ;  though,  certainly,  there  is  as  much  differ- 
ence to  a  gentleman  in  the  work,  as  there  is  to  a  tailor 
between  making  a  plain  and  a  laced  suit.  Rhymes  are 
difficult  things  ;  they  are  stubborn  tilings,  sir.  I  have 
been  sometimes  longer  in  tagging  a  couplet  than  I  have 
been  in  writing  a  speech  on  the  side  of  opposition, 
which  has  been  read  with  great  applause  all  over  the 
kingdom," 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  pleased  to  confirm  that,"  cries 
Booth,  "  for  I  protest  it  was  an  entire  secret  to  me  till 
this  day.  I  was  so  perfectly  ignorant,  that  I  thought  the 
speeches  published  in  the  magazines  were  really  made 
by  the  members  themselves." 

"  Some  of  them,  and  I  believe  I  may,  without  vanity, 
say  the  best,"  cries  the  author,  "  are  all  the  productions 
of  my  own  pen ;  but  1  believe  I  shall  leave  it  off  soon, 
unless  a  sheet  of  speech  will  fetch  more  than  it  does  at 
present.  In  truth,  the  romance  writing  is  the  only 
branch  of  our  business  now  that  is  worth  following. 
Goods  of  that  sort  have  had  so  much  success  lately  in 
the  market,  that  a  bookseller  scarce  cares  what  he  bids 
for  them  :  and  it  is  certainly  the  easiest  work  in  the 
world  :  you  may  write  it  almost  as  fast  as  you  can  set 
pen  to  paper  ;  and,  if  you  interlard  it  with  a  little  scan- 
dal, a  little  abuse  on  some  living  characters  of  note,  you 
cannot  fail  of  success." 

"  Upon  my  word,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  "you  have  greatly 
instructed  me  :  I  could  not  have  imagined  there  had 
been  so  much  regularity  in  the  trade  of  writing  as  you 
are  pleased  to  mention.  By  what  I  can  perceive,  the  pen 
and  ink  is  likely  to  become  the  staple  commodity  of  the 
kingdom." 

"  Alas  !  sir,"  answered  the  author, "  it  is  overstocked. 
The  market  is  overstocked.  There  is  no  encouragement 
27* 


318  THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA. 

to  merit,  no  patrons.  I  have  been  these  five  years  so- 
liciting a  subscription  for  my  new  translation  of  Ovid's 
Metamorphoses,  with  notes  explanatory,  historical,  and 
critical;  and  1  have  scarce  collected  five  hundred  names 
yet." 

The  mention  of  this  translation  a  little  surprised 
Booth  ;  not  only  as  the  author  had  just  declared  his  in- 
tentions to  forsake  the  tuneful  muses,  but  for  some  other 
reasons,  which  he  had  collected  from  his  conversation 
with  our  author,  he  little  expected  to  hear  of  a  proposal 
to  translate  any  of  the  Latin  poets.  He  proceeded,  there- 
fore, to  catechise  him  a  little  further;  and  by  his  an- 
swers was  fully  satisfied  that  he  had  the  very  same  ac- 
quaintance with  Ovid  that  he  had  appeared  to  have  with 
Lucan. 

The  author  then  pulled  out  a  bundle  of  papers,  con- 
taining proposals  for  his  subscription,  and  receipts  ;  and, 
addressing  himself  to  Booth,  said,  "  Though  the  place 
in  which  we  meet,  sir,  is  an  improper  place  to  solicit  fa- 
vours of  this  kind,  yet,  perhaps,  it  may  be  in  your 
power  to  serve  me,  if  you  will  charge  your  pockets  with 
some  of  these."  Booth  was  just  offering  an  excuse, 
when  the  bailiff  introduced  Colonel  James  and  the  ser- 
geant. 

The  unexpected  visit  of  a  beloved  friend  to  a  man  in 
affliction,  especially  in  Mr.  Booth's  situation,  is  a  com- 
fort which  can  scarce  be  equalled ;  not  barely  from  the 
hopes  of  relief  or  redress  by  his  assistance,  but  as  it 
is  an  evidence  of  sincere  friendship,  which  scarce  admits 
of  any  doubt  or  suspicion.  Such  an  instance  does  in- 
deed make  a  man  amends  for  all  ordinary  troubles  and 
distresses ;  and  we  ought  to  think  ourselves  gainers  by 
having  such  an  opportunity  of  discovering  that  we  are 
possessed  of  one  of  the  most  valuable  of  all  human  pos- 
sessions. 

Booth  was  so  transported  at  the  sight  of  the  colonel, 
that  he  dropped  the  proposals  which  the  author  had  put 
into  his  hands,  and  burst  forth  into  the  highest  profes- 
sions of  gratitude  to  his  friend,  who  behaved  very  prop- 
erly on  his  side,  and  said  everything  which  became  the 
mouth  of  a  friend  on  the  occasion. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  he  seemed  not  moved  equally  either 
with  Booth  or  the  sergeant,  both  whose  eyes  watered  at 
the  scene.  In  truth,  the  colonel,  though  a  very  generous 
man,  had  not  the  least  grain  of  tenderness  in  his  dispo- 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  319 

sltion.  His  mind  was  formed  of  those  firm  materials  of 
which  nature  formerly  hammered  out  the  stoic,  and  upon 
which  the  sorrows  of  no  man  Hving  could  make  an  im- 
pression. A  man  of  this  temper,  who  does  not  much 
value  danger,  will  tight  for  the  person  he  calls  his  friend ; 
and  the  man  that  has  but  little  value  for  his  money  will 
give  it  him  :  but  such  friendship  is  never  to  be  absolutely 
depended  on ;  for,  whenever  the  favourite  passion  inter- 
poses with  it,  it  is  sure  to  subside  and  vanish  into  air : 
whereas  the  man  whose  tender  disposition  really  feels 
the  miseries  of  another,  will  endeavour  to  relieve  them 
for  his  own  sake  ;  and  in  such  a  mind  friendship  will 
often  get  the  superiority  over  every  other  passion. 

But,  from  whatever  motive  it  sprung,  the  colonel's 
behaviour  to  Booth  seemed  truly  amiable  ;  and  so  it  ap- 
peared to  the  author,  who  took  the  first  occasion  to  ap- 
plaud it  in  a  very  florid  oration,  which  the  reader,  whea 
he  recollects  that  he  was  a  speechmaker  by  profession, 
will  not  be  surprised  at ;  nor,  perhaps,  will  be  much 
more  surprised,  that  he  soon  after  took  an  occasion  of 
clapping  a  proposal  into  the  colonel's  hands ;  holding, 
at  the  same  time,  a  receipt  very  visible  in  his  own. 

The  colonel  received  both,  and  gave  the  author  a 
guinea  in  exchange,  which  was  double  the  sum  men- 
tioned in  the  receipt ;  for  which  the  author  made  a  low 
bow,  and  very  politely  took  his  leave,  saying,  "  I  sup- 
pose, gentlemen,  you  may  have  some  private  business 
together.  I  heartily  wish  a  speedy  end  to  your  confine- 
ment ;  and  I  congratulate  you  on  the  possessing  so  great, 
60  noble,  and  so  generous  a  friend." 


Chapter  VI. — Which  inclines  rather  to  satire  than  panegyric 

•The  colonel  had  the  curiosity  to  ask  Booth  the  name 
of  the  gentleman  who,  in  the  vulgar  language,  had 
struck,  or  taken  him  in  for  a  guinea,  with  so  much  ease 
and  dexterity.  Booth  answered,  he  did  not  know  his 
name ;  all  that  he  knew  of  him  was,  that  he  was  the 
most  impudent  and  illiterate  fellow  he  had  ever  seen; 
and  that,  by  his  own  account,  he  was  the  author  of  most 
of  the  wonderful  productions  of  the  age.  "  Perhaps," 
said  he,  "  it  may  look  uncharitable  in  me  to  blame  you 
for  your  generosity  ;  but  I  am  convinced  the  fellow  has 


320  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

not  the  least  merit  or  capacity  ;  and  you  have  subscribed 
to  the  most  horrid  trash  that  ever  was  published." 

"  I  care  not  a  farthing  what  he  publishes,"  cries  the 
colonel :  "  Heaven  forbid  1  should  be  obliged  to  read 
half  the  nonsense  I  have  subscribed  to." 

"  But  don't  you  think,"  said  Booth,  "  that  by  such  in- 
discriminate encouragement  of  authors  you  do  a  real 
mischief  to  society  I  By  propagating  the  subscriptions 
of  such  fellows,  people  are  tired  out,  and  vvithhold  their 
contributions  to  men  of  real  merit :  and,  at  the  same 
time,  you  are  contributing  to  fill  the  world,  not  only  with 
nonsense,  but  with  all  the  scurrility,  indecency,  andpro- 
faneness  with  which  the  age  abounds ;  and  with  which 
all  bad  writers  supply  the  defect  of  genius." 

"  Pugh  !"  cries  the  colonel,  "  I  never  consider  these 
matters  :  good  or  bad,  it  is  all  one  to  me ;  but  there's 
an  acquaintance  of  mine,  and  a  man  of  great  wit  too, 
that  thinks  the  worst  the  best,  as  they  are  the  surest  to 
make  him  laugh." 

"  I  ask  pardon,  sir,"  says  the  sergeant ;  "  but  I  wish 
your  honour  would  consider  your  own  affairs  a  little ; 
for  it  grows  late  in  the  evening." 

"  The  sergeant  says  true,"  answered  the  colonel. 
"  What  is  it  you  intend  to  do  ]" 

*'  Faith,  colonel,  I  know  not  what  I  shall  do.  My  af- 
fairs seem  so  irreparable,  that  I  have  been  driving  them, 
as  much  as  possibly  I  could,  from  my  mind.  If  I  was 
to  suffer  alone,  I  think  I  could  bear  them  with  some  phi- 
losophy ;  but  when  I  consider  who  are  to  be  the  sharers 
in  my  fortune — the  dearest  of  children,  and  the  best,  the 
worthiest,  and  the  noblest  of  women — pardon  me,  my 
dear  friend,  these  sensations  are  above  me  ;  they  con- 
vert me  into  a  woman ;  they  drive  me  to  despair,  to 
madness." 

The  colonel  advised  him  to  command  himself;  and 
told  him  this  was  not  the  way  to  retrieve  his  fortune. 
*'  As  to  me,  my  dear  Booth,"  said  he,  "  you  know  you 
may  command  me  as  far  as  is  really  within  my  power." 

Booth  answered  eagerly  that  he  was  so  far  from  ex- 
pecting any  more  favours  from  the  colonel,  that  he  had 
resolved  not  to  let  him  know  anything  of  his  misfortune. 
"  No,  my  dear  friend,"  cries  he,  "  I  am  too  much  obliged 
to  you  already  :"  and  then  burst  into  many  fervent  ex- 
pressions of  gratitude,  till  the  colonel  himself  stopped 


THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA.  321 

him,  and  begged  him  to  give  an  account  of  the  debt  or 
debts  for  which  he  was  detained  in  that  horrid  place. 

Booth  answered  he  could  not  be  very  exact ;  but  he 
feared  it  was  upwards  of  four  hundred  pounds. 

"  It  is  but  three  hundred  pounds,  indeed,  sir,"  cries 
the  sergeant :  "  if  you  can  raise  three  hundred  pounds, 
you  are  a  free  man  this  moment." 

Booth,  who  did  not  apprehend  the  generous  meaning 
of  the  sergeant  as  well  as,  I  believe,  the  reader  will,  an- 
swered, he  was  mistaken ;  that  he  had  computed  his 
debts,  and  they  amounted  to  upwards  of  four  hundred 
pounds  4  nay,  that  the  bailiff  had  shown  him  writs  for 
above  that  sum. 

■"  Whether  your  debts  are  three  or  four  hundred,"  cries 
the  colonel,  "  the  present  business  is  to  give  bail  only  ; 
and  then  you  will  have  some  time  to  try  your  friends. 
I  think  you  might  get  a  company  abroad;  and  then  I 
would  advance  the  money  on  the  security  of  half  your 
pay :  and,  in  the  mean  time,  I  will  be  one  of  your  bail 
with  all  my  heart." 

While  Booth  poured  forth  his  gratitude  for  all  this 
kindness,  the  sergeant  ran  down  stairs  for  the  bailiff ;  and 
shortly  after  returned  with  him  into  the  room. 

The  bailiff,  being  informed  that  the  colonel  offered  to 
be  bail  for  his  prisoner,  answered,  a  little  surlily, "  W^ell, 
sir,  and  who  will  be  the  other  ?  you  know,  I  suppose, 
there  must  be  two  ;  and  1  must  have  time  to  inquire 
after  them." 

The  colonel  replied,  *'  I  believe,  sir,  I  am  well  known 
to  be  responsible  for  a  much  larger  sum  than  your  de- 
mand on  this  gentleman  :  but,  if  your  forms  require  two, 
I  suppose  the  sergeant  here  will  do  for  the  other." 

*'  1  don't  know  the  sergeant  or  you  either,  sir,"  cries 
Bondum ;  "  and,  if  you  propose  yourselves  bail  for  the 
gentleman,  I  must  have  time  to  inquire  after  you." 

"  You  need  very  little  time  to  inquire  after  me,"  says 
the  colonel ;  "  for  I  can  send  for  several  of  the  law, 
whom  I  suppose  you  know,  to  satisfy  you  ;  but  consider, 
it  is  very  late." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Bondum,  "  I  do  consider  it  is 
too  late  for  the  captain  to  be  bailed  to-night." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  too  late  ?"  cries  the  coloneL 

*'  I  mean,  sir,  that  I  must  search  the  office,  and  that  is 
now  shut  up ;  for  if  my  lord  mayor  and  the  court  of  al- 
03 


322  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

dermen  would  be  bound  for  him,  I  would  not  discharg-e 
him  till  I  had  searched  the  office." 

"  How,  sir,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  has  the  law  of  Eng- 
land no  more  regrard  for  the  liberty  of  the  subject  than 
to  suffer  such  fellows  as  you  to  detain  a  man  in  custody 
for  debt,  when  he  can  give  undeniable  security  ]" 

"  Don't  fellow  me,"  said  the  bailiff;  "  I  am  as  good  a 
fellow  as  yourself  I  believe,  though  you  have  that  rib- 
and in  your  hat  there." 

"Do'you  know  whom  you  are  speaking  to  V  said  the 
sergeant.  "  Do  you  know  you  are  talking  to  a  colonel 
of  the  army  T' 

"  What's  a  colonel  of  the  army  to  meV  cries  the  bail- 
iff: "I  have  had  as  good  as  he  in  my  custody  before 
now." 

"  And  a  member  of  parliament  V  cries  the  sergeant. 

"Is  the  gentleman  a  member  of  parliament?  Well, 
and  what  harm  have  I  said  ?  I  am  sure  I  meant  no 
harm :  and,  if  his  honour  is  offended,  I  ask  his  pardon ; 
to  be  sure  his  honour  must  know  that  the  sheriff  is  an- 
swerable for  all  the  Avrits  in  the  office,  though  they 
were  never  so  many,  and  I  am  answerable  to  the 
sheriff.  I  am  sure  the  captain  can't  say  that  1  have 
shown  him  any  manner  of  incivihty  since  he  has  been 
here :  and  I  hope,  honourable  sir,"  cries  he,  turning  to 
the  colonel,  "  you  don't  take  anything  amiss  that  I  said, 
as  meant  by  way  of  disrespect,  or  any  such  matter.  I 
did  not,  indeed,  as  the  gentleman  here  says,  know 
whom  I  was  speaking  to ;  but  I  did  not  say  anything 
uncivil  as  I  know  of,  and  I  hope  no  offence." 

The  colonel  was  more  easily  pacified  than  might 
have  been  expected ;  and  told  the  bailiff,  that  if  it  was 
against  the  rules  of  law  to  discharge  Mr.  Booth  that 
evening,  he  must  be  contented.  He  then  addressed 
himself  to  his  friend,  and  began  to  prescribe  comfort 
and  patience  to  him  ;  saying,  he  must  rest  satisfied  with 
his  confinement  that  night ;  and  the  next  morning  he 
promised  to  visit  him  again. 

Booth  answ^ered,  that  as  for  himself,  the  lying  one 
night  in  any  place  was  very  little  w^orth  his  regard. 
"  You  and  I,  my  dear  friend,  have  both  spent  om* 
evening  in  a  worse  situation  than  I  shall  in  this  house. 
All  my  concern  is  for  my  poor  Amelia,  whose  suffer- 
ings on  account  of  my  absence  I  know^,  and  1  feel  with 
unspeakable  tenderness.     Could  I  be  assured  she  was 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  323 

tolerably  easy,  I  could  be  contented  in  chains  or  in  a 
dungeon." 

"  Give  yourself  no  concern  on  her  account,"  said  the 
colonel :  "  I  will  wait  on  her  myself,  though  I  break  an 
engagement  for  that  purpose ;  and  will  give  her  such 
assurances  as  I  am  convinced  will  make  her  perfectly 
easy." 

Booth  embraced  his  friend,  and,  weeping  over  him, 
paid  his  acknowledgment  with  tears  for  all  his  goodness. 
In  words,  indeed,  he  was  not  able  to  thank  him ;  for 
gratitude,  joining  with  his  other  passions,  almost  choked 
him,  and  stopped  his  utterance. 

After  a  short  scene,  in  which  nothing  passed  worth 
recounting,  the  colonel  bid  his  friend  good-night ;  and, 
leaving  the  sergeant  with  him,  made  the  best  of  his  way 
back  to  Amelia. 


Chapter  VII. — Worthy  a  very  serious  perusal. 

The  colonel  found  Amelia  sitting  very  disconsolate 
with  Mrs.  Atkinson.  He  entered  the  room  with  an  air 
of  great  gayety,  assured  Amelia  that  her  husband  was 
perfectly  well,  and  that  he  hoped  the  next  day  he  would 
again  be  with  her. 

Amelia  was  a  little  comforted  at  this  account ;  and 
vented  many  grateful  expressions  to  the  colonel  for  his 
unparalleled  friendship,  as  she  was  pleased  to  call  it. 
She  could  not,  however,  help  giving  way,  soon  after, 
to  a  sigh  at  the  thoughts  of  her  husband's  bondage ;  and 
declared  that  night  would  be  the  longest  she  had  ever 
known. 

"  This  lady,  madam,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  must  endeav- 
our to  make  it  shorter ;  and,  if  you  will  give  me  leave, 
I  will  join  in  the  same  endeavour."  Then,  after  some 
more  consolatory  speeches,  the  colonel  attempted  to 
give  a  gay  turn  to  the  discourse,  and  said,  "  1  was  en- 
gaged to  have  spent  this  evening  disagreeably  at  Rane- 
lagh,  with  a  set  of  company  1  did  not  hke.  How  vastly 
am  I  obliged  to  you,  dear  Mrs.  Booth,  that  I  pass  it  so 
infinitely  more  to  my  satisfaction!" 

"  Indeed,  colonel,"  said  Amelia,  "  I  am  convinced 
that,  to  a  mind  so  rightly  turned  as  yours,  there  must 
be  a  much  sweeter  relish  in  the  highest  offices  of 


324  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

friendship,  than  in  any  pleasures  which  the  gayest  pub- 
lic places  can  afford." 

"Upon  my  word,  madam,"  said  the  colonel,  "yon 
now  do  me  no  more  than  justice.  I  have,  and  always 
had,  the  utmost  indifference  for  such  pleasures  :  indeed, 
I  hardly  allow  them  worthy  of  that  name,  or,  if  they 
are  so  at  all,  it  is  in  a  very  low  degree.  In  my  opinion, 
the  highest  friendship  must  always  lead  us  to  the  high- 
est pleasure." 

Here  Amelia  entered  into  a  long  dissertation  on 
friendship,  in  which  she  pointed,  several  times,  directly 
at  the  colonel  as  the  hero  of  her  tale. 

The  colonel  highly  applauded  all  her  sentiments ;  and 
when  he  could  not  avoid  taking  the  compliment  to  him- 
self, he  received  it  with  a  most  respectful  bow.  He 
then  tried  his  hand  likewise  at  description,  in  which  he 
found  means  to  repay  all  Amelia's  panegyric  in  kind. 
This,  though  he  did  with  all  possible  delicacy,  yet  a 
curious  observer  might  have  been  apt  to  suspect  that  it 
was  chiefly  on  her  account  that  the  colonel  had  avoided 
the  masquerade. 

In  discourses  of  this  kind  they  passed  the  evening, 
till  it  was  very  late,  the  colonel  never  offering  to  stir 
from  his  chair  before  the  clock  had  struck  one  ;  when 
he  thought,  perhaps,  that  decency  obliged  him  to  take 
his  leave. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  Mrs.  Atkinson  said  to  Mrs, 
Booth,  "  I  think,  madam,  you  told  me  this  afternoon 
that  the  colonel  was  married." 

Amelia  answeredy  she  did  so. 

"  I  think  likewise, madam,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "you 
was  acquainted  with  the  colonel's  lady." 

Amelia  answered,  that  she  had  been  extremely  inti- 
mate with  her  abroad. 

"  Is  she  young  and  handsome  ?"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson. 
"  In  short,  pray,  was  it  a  match  of  love  or  convenience  V^ 

Amelia  answered,  entirely  of  love,  she  believed,  on 
his  side  ;  for  that  the  lady  had  httle  or  no  fortune. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson ;  "  for 
I  am  sure  the  colonel  is  in  love  with  somebody.  I 
think  I  never  saw  a  more  luscious  picture  of  love  drawn 
than  that  which  he  was  pleased  to  give  us  as  the  por- 
traiture of  friendship.  I  have  read,  indeed,  of  Pylades 
and  Orestes,  Damon  and  Pythias,  and  other  great  friends 
of  old ;  nay,  I  sometimes  flatter  myself  that  I  am  capa- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  325 

ble  of  being  a  friend  myself;  but  as  for  that  fine,  soft, 
tender,  delicate  passion,  which  he  was  pleased  to  de- 
scribe, I  am  convinced  there  must  go  a  he  and  she  to 
the  composition." 

"  Upon  my  word,  my  dear,  you  are  mistaken,"  cries 
Amelia:  "if  you  had  known  the  friendship  which  has 
always  subsisted  between  the  colonel  and  my  husband, 
you  would  not  imagine  it  possible  for  any  description  to 
exceed  it.  Nay,  I  think  his  behaviour  this  very  day  is 
sufficient  to  convince  you." 

"  I  own  what  he  has  done  to-day  has  great  merit," 
said  Mrs.  Atkinson ;  "  and  yet,  from  what  he  has  said 
to-night —  You  will  pardon  me,  dear  madam  ;  perhaps 
I  am  too  quick-sighted  in  my  observations  ;  nay,  I  am 
afraid  I  am  even  impertinent." 

"  Fy  upon  it !"  cries  Amelia,  "  how  can  you  talk  in 
that  strain  1  Do  you  imagine  I  expect  ceremony  ?  Pray 
speak  what  you  think  with  the  utmost  freedom." 

"  Did  he  not,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  repeat  the 
words,  the  finest  woman  in  the  world,  more  thali  once  ] 
Did  he  not  make  use  of  an  expression  which  might  have 
become  the  mouth  of  Oroondates  himself?  If  1  re- 
member, the  words  were  these.  That,  had  he  been  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  he  should  have  thought  it  more  glory 
to  have  wiped  off  a  tear  from  the  bright  eyes  of  Statira, 
than  to  have  conquered  fifty  worlds." 

"  Did  he  say  so  ?"  cries  Amelia :  "  I  think  he  did 
say  something  like  it ;  but  my  thoughts  were  so  full  of 
my  husband,  that  1  took  but  little  notice.  But  what 
would  you  infer  from  what  he  said  1  1  hope  you  don't 
think  he  is  in  love  with  me  !" 

*'  I  hope  he  does  not  think  so  himself,"  answered  Mrs. 
Atkinson  ;  "  though,  when  he  mentioned  the  bright  eyes 
of  Statira,  he  fixed  his  own  eyes  on  yours  with  the  niost 
languishing  air  I  ever  beheld." 

Amelia  was  going  to  answer,  when  the  sergeant  ar- 
rived, and  then  she  immediately  fell  to  inquiring  after 
her  husband ;  and  received  such  satisfactory  answers 
to  all  her  many  questions  concerning  him,  that  she  ex- 
pressed great  pleasure.  These  ideas  so  possessed  her 
mind,  that,  without  once  casting  her  thoughts  on  any 
other  matters,  she  took  her  leave  of  the  sergeant  and  his 
lady,  and  repaired  to  bed  to  her  children,  in  a  room 
which  Mrs.  Atkinson  had  provided  her  in  the  same 
house  ;  where  we  will  at  present  wish  her  a  good-night. 


326  THE    HISTORY  OF   AMELIA. 


Ch.vpter  III.— Consisting  of  grave  matters. 

While  innocence  and  cheerful  hope,  in  spite  of  the 
malice  of  fortune,  closed  the  eyes  of  the  gentle  Amelia, 
on  her  homely  bed,  and  she  enjoyed  a  sweet  and  pro- 
found sleep,  the  colonel  lay  restless  all  night  on  his 
down :  his  mind  was  affected  with  a  kind  of  ague-fit ; 
sometimes  scorched  up  with  flaming  desires,  and  again 
chilled  with  the  coldest  despair. 

There  is  a  time,  I  think,  according  to  one  of  our  poets, 
when  lust  and  envy  sleep.  This,  I  suppose,  is  when 
they  are  well  gorged  with  the  food  they  most  delight  in; 
but  while  either  of  these  is  hungry, 

"  Nor  poppy,  nor  mandragora. 
Nor  all  the  drowsy  sirups  of  the  East 
Will  ever  medicine  them  to  slumber." 

The  colonel  was  at  present  unhappily  tormented  by 
both  these  fiends.  His  last  evening's  conversation  with 
Amelia  had  done  his  business  effectually  ;  the  many  kind 
words  she  had  spoken  to  him,  the  many  kind  looks  she 
had  given  him,  as  being,  she  conceived,  the  friend  and 
preserver  of  her  husband,  had  made  an  entire  conquest 
of  his  heart.  Thus,  the  very  love  which  she  bore  him, 
as  the  person  to  whom  her  little  family  were  to  owe 
their  preservation  and  happiness,  inspired  him  with 
thoughts  of  sinking  them  all  in  the  lowest  abyss  of  ruin 
and  misery  ;  and  while  she  smiled  with  all  her  sweetness 
on  the  supposed  friend  of  her  husband,  she  was  convert- 
ing that  friend  into  his  most  bitter  enemy. 

"Friendship,  take  heed  ;  if  woman  interfere, 
Be  sure  the  hour  of  thy  destruction's  near." 

These  are  the  lines  of  Vanbrugh  ;  and  the  sentiment  is 
better  than  the  poetry.  To  say  the  truth,  as  a  hand- 
some wife  is  the  cause  and  cement  of  many  false  friend- 
ships, she  is  often  too  liable  to  destroy  the  real  ones. 

Thus,  the  object  of  the  colonel's  lust  very  plainly  ap^ 
pears ;  but  the  object  of  his  envy  may  be  more  difficult 
to  discover.  Nature  and  fortune  had  seemed  to  strive 
with  a  kind  of  rivalship,  which  should  bestow  most  on 
the  colonel.  The  former  had  given  him  person,  parts, 
and  constitution,  in  all  which  he  was  superior  almost  to 


THE   HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  327 

every  other  man  ;  the  latter  had  given  him  rank  in  hfe, 
and  riches,  both  in  a  very  eminent  degree.  Whom  then 
should  this  happy  man  envy  1  Here,  lest  ambition  should 
mislead  the  reader  to  search  the  palaces  of  the  great, 
we  will  direct  him  at  once  to  Gray's  Inn-lane ;  where,  in 
a  miserable  bed,  in  a  miserable  room,  he  will  see  a  mis- 
erable broken  lieutenant,  in  a  miserable  condition,  with 
several  heavy  debts  on  his  back,  and  without  a  penny 
in  his  pocket.  This,  and  no  other,  was  the  object  of  the 
colonel's  envy.  And  why  1  because  this  wretch  was 
possessed  of  the  affections  of  a  poor  little  lamb,  which 
all  the  vast  flocks  that  were  within  the  power  and  reach 
of  the  colonel  could  not  prevent  that  glutton's  longing 
for.  And  sure  this  image  of  the  lamb  is  not  improperly 
adduced  on  this  occasion ;  for  what  was  the  colonel's 
desire,  but  to  lead  this  poor  lamb,  as  it  were,  to  the 
slaughter,  in  order  to  purchase  a  feast  of  a  few  days  by 
her  final  destruction  ;  and  to  tear  her  away  from  the  arms 
of  one,  where  she  was  sure  of  being  fondled  and  ca- 
ressed all  the  days  of  her  life  ? 

While  the  colonel  was  agitated  with  these  thoughts, 
his  greatest  comfort  was,  that  Amelia  and  Booth  were 
now  separated;  and  his  greatest  terror  was  of  their 
coming  again  together.  From  wishes,  therefore,  he  be- 
gan to  meditate  designs ;  and  so  far  was  he  from  any 
intention  of  procuring  the  liberty  of  his  friend,  that  he 
began  to  form  schemes  of  prolonging  his  confinement, 
till  he  could  procure  some  means  of  sending  him  far 
away  from  her ;  in  which  case,  he  doubted  not  but  of 
succeeding  in  all  he  desired. 

He  was  forming  this  plan  in  his  mind,  when  a  servant 
informed  him  that  one  Sergeant  Atkinson  desired  to  speak 
v*^ith  his  honour.  The  sergeant  was  immediately  admit- 
ted, and  acquainted  the  colonel,  that  if  he  pleased  to  go 
and  become  bail  for  Mr.  Booth,  another  unexceptionable 
housekeeper  would  be  there  to  join  with  him.  This 
person  the  sergeant  had  procured  that  morning,  and  had, 
by  leave  of  his  wife,  given  him  a  bond  of  indemnification 
for  the  purpose. 

The  colonel  did  not  seem  so  elated  with  this  news  as 
Atkinson  expected :  on  the  contrary,  instead  of  making 
a  direct  answer  to  what  Atkinson  said,  the  colonel  began 
thus  :  *'  I  think,  sergeant,  Mr.  Booth  has  told  me  that 
you  was  foster-brother  to  his  lady.  She  is  really  a 
charming  woman,  and  it  is  a  thousand  pities  she  should 


328  THE    IIlSTOr.Y    OF    AMELIA. 

ever  have  been  placed  in  the  dreadful  situation  she  is 
now  in.  There  is  nothing  so  silly  as  for  subaltern  offi- 
cers of  the  army  to  marryrunless  where  they  meet  with 
women  of  very  great  fortunes  indeed.  What  can  be  the 
event  of  their  marrying,  otherwise,  but  entailing  misery 
and  beggary  on  their  wives  and  their  posterity  V 

"  AhYsir,"  cries  the  sergeant,  "it  is  too  late  to  think 
of  those  matters  now.  To  be  sure,  my  lady  might  have 
married  one  of  the  top  gentlemen  in  the  country ;  for 
she  is  certainly  one  of  the  best,  as  well  as  one  of  the 
handsomest  women  in  the  kingdom  ;  and  if  she  had  been 
fairly  dealt  by,  would  have  had  a  very  great  fortune  into 
the  bargain.'  Indeed,  she  is  worthy  of  the  greatest 
prince  in  the  world  ;  and,  if  I  had  been  the  greatest  prince 
in  the  world,  I  should  have  thought  myself  happy  with 
such  a  wife;  but  she  was  pleased  to  like  the  lieutenant, 
and  certainly  there  can  be  no  happiness  in  marriage 
without  liking." 

"  Lookee,  sergeant,"  said  the  colonel,  "  you  know  very 
well  that  I  am  the  lieutenant's  friend :  I  think  I  have 
shown  myself  so." 

"  Indeed,  your  honour  has,"  quoth  the  sergeant,  "  more 
than  once  to  my  knowledge." 

"  But  I  am  angry  with  him  for  his  imprudence,  greatly 
angry  with  him  for  his  imprudence  ;  and  the  more  so,  as 
it  affects  a  lady  of  so  much  worth." 

"  She  is,  indeed,  a  lady  of  the  highest  worth,"  cries 
the  sergeant.  "  Poor  dear  lady  !  I  knew  her,  an"t  please 
your  honour,  from  her  infancy ;  and  the  sweetest  tem- 
pered, best-natured  lady  she  is  that  ever  trod  on  English 
ground.  I  have  always  loved  her  as  if  she  was  my  own 
sister.  Nay,  she  has  very  often  called  me  brother  ;  and 
I  have  taken  it  to  be  a  greater  honour  than  if  I  was  to 
be  called  a  general  otRcer." 

"  What  pity  it  is,"  said  the  colonel,  "  that  this  wor- 
thy creature  should  be  exposed  to  so  much  misery  by  the 
thoughtless  behaviour  of  a  man,  who,  though  I  am  his 
friend,  I  cannot  help  saying,  has  been  guilty  of  impru- 
dence at  least  I  Why  could  he  not  live  upon  his  half- 
pay?  What  had  he  to  do  to  run  himself  into  debt  in 
this  outrageous  manner]" 

"  I  wish,  indeed,"  cries  the  sergeant,  "he  had  been 
a  little  more  considerative ;  but  1  hope  this  will  be  a 
warning  to  him." 

"  How  am  I  sure  of  that  ]"  answered  the  colonel ;  "or 


THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA.  329 

what  reason  is  there  to  expect  itl  extravagance  is  a 
vice,  o(  which  men  are  not  so  easily  cured.  I  have 
thought  a  good  deal  of  this  matter,  Mr.  Sergeant;  and, 
upon  the  most  mature  deliberation,  I  am  of  opinion  that 
it  will  be  better  both  for  him  and  his  poor  lady  that  he 
should  smart  a  little  more." 

*'  Your  honour,  sir,  to  be  sure,  is  in  the  right,"  replied 
the  sergeant ;  "  but  yet,  sir,  if  you  will  pardon  me  for 
speaking,  I  hope  you  will  be  pleased  to  consider  my  poor 
lady's  case.  She  suffers,  all  this  while,  as  much  or 
more  than  the  lieutenant;  for  I  know  her  so  well,  that 
I  am  certain  she  will  never  have  a  moment's  ease  till 
her  husband  is  out  of  confinement." 

"I  know  women  better  than  you,  sergeant,"  cries  the 
colonel:  "  they  sometimes  place  their  affections  on  a 
husband  as  children  do  on  their  nurse  ;  but  they  are 
both  to  be  weaned.  I  know  you,  sergeant,  to  be  a  fel- 
low of  sense  as  well  as  spirit,  or  I  should  not  speak  so 
freely  to  you  ;  but  1  took  a  fancy  to  you  a  long  time  ago, 
and  I  intend  to  serve  you ;  but  first,  I  ask  you  this  ques- 
tion— Is  your  attachment  to  Mr.  Booth,  or  his  lady?" 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  I  must  love  my 
lady  best.  Not  but  I  have  a  great  aflfection  for  the 
lieutenant  too,  because  I  know  my  lady  has  the  same ; 
and,  indeed,  he  has  been  always  very  good  to  me,  as  far 
as  was  in  his  power.  A  lieutenant,  your  honour  knows, 
can't  do  a  great  deal ;  but  I  have  always  found  him  my 
friend  upon  all  occasions." 

"  You  say  true,"  cries  the  colonel;  "  a  lieutenant  can 
do  but  little  ;  but  I  can  do  much  to  serve  you,  and  will 
too.  But  let  me  ask  you  one  question.  Who  was  the 
lady  whom  I  saw  last  night  with  Mrs.  Booth  at  her  lodg- 
ings ?" 

Here  the  sergeant  blushed,  and  repeated,  "  The  lady, 
sir?" 

"  Ay,  a  lady,  a  woman,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  who 
supped  with  us  last  night.  She  looked  rather  too  much 
like  a  gentlewoman  for  the  mistress  of  a  lodging-house." 
The  sergeant's  cheeks  glowed  at  this  compliment  to 
his  wife ;  and  he  was  just  going  to  own  her,  when  the 
colonel  proceeded :  "  1  think  I  never  saw  in  my  life  so 
ill-looking,  sly,  demure  a  b — h :  I  would  give  some- 
thing, methinks,  to  know  who  she  was." 

"  1  don't  know,  indeed,"  cries  the  sergeant,  in  great 
confusion ;  "  I  know  nothing  about  her." 
28* 


330  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  I  wish  you  would  inquire,"  said  the  colonel,  "  and 
let  me  know  her  name,  and  likewise  what  she  is ;  I 
have  a  strange  curiosity  to  know  ;  and  let  me  see  you 
again  this  evening,  exactly  at  seven." 

"  And  will  not  your  honour  then  go  to  the  lieutenant 
this  morning'?"  said  Atliinson. 

"  It  is  not  in  my  power,"  answered  the  colonel ;  "  I 
am  engaged  another  way.  Besides,  there  is  no  haste  in 
this  affair.  If  men  will  be  imprudent,  they  must  suffer 
the  consequences.  Come  to  me  at  seven,  and  bring  me 
all  the  particulars  you  can  concerning  that  ill-looking 
jade  I  mentioned  to  you  ;  for  I  am  resolved  to  know 
who  she  is.  And  so  good-morrow  to  you,  sergeant ;  be 
assured  I  will  take  an  opportunity  to  do  something  for 
you." 

Though  some  readers  may,  perhaps,  think  the  ser- 
geant not  unworthy  of  the  freedom  with  which  the  col- 
onel treated  him,  yet  that  haughty  officer  would  have 
been  very  backward  to  have  condescended  to  such  fa- 
miliarity with  one  of  his  rank,  had  he  not  proposed  some 
design  from  it.  In  truth,  he  began  to  conceive  hopes  of 
making  the  sergeant  instrumental  in  his  design  on  Ame- 
lia; in  other  words,  to  convert  him  into  a  pimp;  an 
office,  in  which  the  colonel  had  been  served  by  Atkin- 
son's betters  ;  and  which,  as  he  knew  it  was  in  his  pow- 
er very  well  to  reward  him,  he  had  no  apprehension  that 
the  sergeant  would  decline ;  an  opinion  which  the  ser- 
geant might  have  pardoned,  though  he  had  never  given 
the  least  grounds  for  it,  since  the  colonel  borrowed  it 
from  the  knowledge  of  his  own  heart.  This  dictated  to 
him  that  he,  from  a  bad  motive,  was  capable  of  desiring 
to  debauch  his  friend's  wife  ;  and  the  same  heart  in- 
spired him  to  hope  that  another,  from  another  bad  mo- 
tive, might  be  guilty  of  the  same  breach  of  friendship  in 
assisting  him.  Few  men,  I  believe,  think  better  of  oth- 
ers than  of  themselves  ;  nor  do  they  easily  allow  the  ex- 
istence of  any  virtue,  of  which  they  perceive  no  traces 
in  their  own  minds:  for  which  reason,  I  have  observed, 
that  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  persuade  a  rogue  that  you 
are  an  honest  man  ;  nor  would  you  ever  succeed  in  the 
attempt  by  the  strongest  evidence,  were  it  not  for  the 
comfortable  conclusion  which  the  rogue  draws,  that  he 
who  proves  himself  to  be  honest  proves  himself  to  be  a 
fool  at  the  same  time. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  331 


Chapter  IX.— A  curious  chapter,  from  which  a  curious  reader  may 
draw  sundry  observations. 

The  sergeant  retired  from  the  colonel  in  a  very  de- 
jected state  of  mind  ;  in  which,  however,  we  must  leave 
him  a  while,  and  return  to  Amelia ;  who,  as  soon  as  she 
was  up,  had  despatched  Mrs.  Atkinson  to  pay  off  her 
former  lodgings,  and  to  bring  off  all  her  clothes  and  other 
moveables. 

The  trusty  messenger  returned  without  performing 
her  errand ;  for  Mrs.  EUison  had  locked  up  all  her  rooms, 
and  was  gone  out  very  early  that  morning ;  and  the  ser- 
vant knew  not  whither  she  was  gone. 

The  two  ladies  now  sat  down  to  breakfast,  together 
with  Amelia's  two  children;  after  which,  Amelia  de- 
clared she  would  take  a  coach  and  visit  her  husband. 
To  this  motion  Mrs.  Atkinson  soon  agreed,  and  offered 
to  be  her  companion.  To  say  truth,  I  think  it  was  rea- 
sonable enough :  and  the  great  abhorrence  which  Booth 
had  of  seeing  his  wife  in  a  baihff's  house  was,  perhaps, 
rather  too  nice  and  delicate. 

When  the  ladies  were  both  dressed,  and  just  going  to 
send  for  their  vehicle,  a  great  knocking  was  heard  at  the 
door,  and  presently  Mrs.  James  was  ushered  into  the 
room. 

This  visit  was  disagreeable  enough  to  Amelia,  as  it  de- 
tained her  from  the  sight  of  her  husband,  for  which  she 
so  eagerly  longed.  However,  as  she  had  no  doubt  but 
that  the  visit  would  be  reasonably  short,  she  resolved  to 
receive  the  lady  with  all  the  complaisance  in  her  power. 

Mrs.  James  now  behaved  herself  so  very  unlike  the 
person  that  she  lately  appeared,  that  it  might  have  sur- 
prised any  one,  who  does  not  know,  that  besides  that  of 
a  fine  lady,  which  is  all  mere  art  and  mummery,  every 
such  woman  has  some  real  character  at  the  bottom,  in 
which,  whenever  nature  gets  the  better  of  her,  she  acts. 
Thus  the  finest  ladies  in  the  world  will  sometimes  love 
and  sometimes  scratch,  according  to  their  different  nat- 
ural dispositions,  with  great  fury  and  violence,  though 
both  of  these  are  equally  inconsistent  with  a  fine  lady's 
artificial  character. 


S32  THE    «lSrORY    OF    AMELIA. 

Mrs.  James  then  was,  at  the  bottom,  a  very  good-na- 
tured woman;  and  the  moment  she  heard  of  Ameha's 
misfortune,  was  sincerely  grieved  at  it.  She  had  acqui- 
esced, on  the  very  first  motion,  with  the  colonel's  design 
of  inviting  her  to  her  house  ;  and  this  morning,  at  break- 
fast, when  he  had  acquainted  her  that  Amelia  made  some 
difficulty  in  accepting  the  offer,  very  readily  undertook 
to  go  herself,  and  persuade  her  friend  to  accept  the  in- 
vitation. 

She  now  pressed  this  matter  with  such  earnestness, 
that  Amelia,  who  was  not  extremely  versed  in  the  art 
of  denying,  was  hardly  able  to  refuse  her  impor;  unity  ; 
nothing,  indeed,  but  her  affection  to  Mrs.  Atkinson 
could  have  prevailed  on  her  to  refuse :  that  point, 
however,  she  would  not  give  up ;  and  Mrs.  James,  at 
last,  was  contented  with  a  promise,  that  as  soon  as 
their  affairs  were  settled,  Amelia,  with  her  husband 
and  family,  would  make  her  a  visit,  and  stay  some 
time  with  her  in  the  country,  whither  she  was  soon  to 
retire. 

Having  obtained  this  promise,  Mrs.  James,  after  many 
very  friendly  professions,  took  her  leave,  and,  stepping 
iiito  her  coach,  resumed  the  fine  lady,  and  drove  away  to 
join  her  company  at  an  auction. 

The  moment  she  was  gone,  Mrs.  Atkinson,  who  had 
left  the  room  upon  the  approach  of  Mrs.  James,  re- 
turned into  it,  and  was  informed  by  Amelia  of  all  that 
had  passed. 

"  Pray,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  do  this  colonel 
and  his  lady  live,  as  it  is  called,  well  together]" 

"  If  you  mean  to  ask,"  cries  Amelia,  "whether  they 
are  a  fond  couple,  I  must  answer,  that  I  believe  they  are 
not." 

"  I  have  been  told,"  says  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  that  there 
have  been  instances  of  women  who  have  become  bawds 
to  their  own  husbands,  and  the  husbands  pimps  for 
them." 

"Fy  upon  it!"  cries  Amelia:  "I  hope  there  are  no 
such  people.  Indeed,  my  dear,  this  is  being  a  little  too 
censorious." 

'•  Call  it  what  you  please,"  answered  Mrs.  Atkinson: 
*'  it  arises  from  my  love  to  you,  and  my  fears  for  your 
danger.  You  know  the  proverb  of  a  burnt  child  ;  and, 
if  such  a  one  has  any  good-nature,  it  will  dread  the  fire 
on  the  account  of  others  as  well  as  on  its  own :  and  if  I 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  33d 

may  speak  my  sentiments  freely,  I  cannot  think  you  will 
be  in  safety  at  this  colonel's  house." 

"  I  cannot  but  believe  your  apprehensions  to  be  sin- 
cere," replied  Amelia,  "  and  I  must  think  myself  obliged 
to  you  for  ihem  ;  but  I  am  convinced  you  are  entirely  in 
an  error.  I  look  on  Colonel  James  as  the  most  generous 
and  best  of  men.  He  was  a  friend,  and  an  excellent 
friend  too,  to  my  husband,  long  before  1  was  acquainted 
with  him,  and  he  has  done  him  a  thousand  good  offices. 
What  do  you  say  of  his  behaviour  yesterday  ?" 

"  I  wish,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  that  his  behaviour 
to-day  had  been  equal.  What  I  am  now  going  to  under- 
take is  the  most  disagreeable  office  of  friendship,  but  it 
is  a  necessary  one.  I  must  tell  you,  therefore,  what 
passed  this  morning  between  the  colonel  and  Mr.  Atkin- 
son ;  for,  though  it  will  hurt  you,  you  ought,  on  many 
accounts,  to  know  it."  Here  she  related  the  whole 
which  we  have  recorded  in  the  preceding  chapter,  and 
with  which  the  sergeant  had  acquainted  her  while  Mrs, 
James  was  paying  her  visit  to  Amelia;  and  as  the  sergeant 
had  painted  the  matter  rather  in  stronger  colours  than 
the  colonel,  so  Mrs.  Atkinson  again  a  little  improved  on 
the  sergeant.  Neither  of  these  good  people,  perhaps,  in- 
tended to  aggravate  any  circumstance  ;  but  such  is,  I  be- 
lieve, the  unavoidable  consequence  of  all  reports.  Mrs. 
Atkinson,  indeed,  may  be  supposed  not  to  see  what  re- 
lated to  James  in  the  most  favourable  light,  as  the  ser- 
geant, with  more  honesty  than  prudence,  had  suggested 
to  his  wife,  that  the  colonel  had  not  the  kindest  opinion 
of  her,  ami  had  called  her  a  sly  and  demure  b — h  :  it  is 
true  he  omitted  ill-looking  b — h;  two  words  which  are 
perhaps  superior  to  the  patience  of  any  Job  in  petticoats 
that  ever  lived.  He  made  amends,  however,  by  substi- 
tuting some  other  phrases  in  their  stead,  not  extremely 
agreeable  to  a  female  ear. 

It  appeared  to  Amelia,  from  Mrs.  Atkinson's  relation, 
that  the  colonel  had  grossly  abused  Booth  to  the  ser- 
geant, and  had  absolutely  refused  to  become  his  bail. 
Poor  Amelia  became  a  pale  and  motionless  statue  at 
this  account.  At  length  she  cried,  "  If  this  be  true,  I 
and  mine  are  all,  indeed,  undone.  We  have  no  com- 
fort, no  hope,  no  friend  left.  I  cannot  disbelieve  you ; 
I  know  you  would  not  deceive  me.  Why  should  you, 
indeed,  deceive  me  ?    But  what  can  have  caused  this  al- 


334  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

teration  since  last  night  1  Did  I  say  or  do  anything  to 
offend  him  ?" 

*'  You  said,  or  did  rather,  I  believe,  a  great  deal  too 
much  to  please  him,"  answered  Mrs.  Atkinson :  "  be- 
sides, he  is  not  in  the  least  offended  with  you.  On  the 
contrary,  he  said  many  kind  things." 

"  What  can  my  poor  love  have  done  ■?"  said  Amelia. 
"  He  has  not  seen  the  colonel  since  last  night.  Some 
villain  has  set  him  against  my  husband :  he  was  once 
before  suspicious  of  such  a  person.  Some  cruel  mon- 
ster has  belied  his  innocence." 

"  Pardon  me,  dear  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson :  "  I 
believe  the  person  who  has  injured  the  captain  with  this 
friend  of  his,  is  one  of  the  worthiest  and  best  of  crea- 
tures. Nay,  do  not  be  surprised  ;  the  person  I  mean  is 
even  your  fair  self :  sure  you  would  not  be  so  dull  in  any 
other  case;  but  in  this,  gratitude,  humihty,  modesty, 
every  virtue  shuts  your  eyes ; 

♦  Mortales  hebetant  visus,' 

as  Virgil  says.  What  in  the  world  can  be  more  con- 
sistent than  his  desire  to  have  you  at  his  own  house, 
and  to  keep  your  husband  confined  in  another]  All 
that  he  said,  and  all  that  he  did  yesterday,  and,  what  is 
more  convincing  to  me  than  both,  all  that  he  looked 
last  night,  are  very  consistent  with  both  these  designs." 

"Oh  heavens!"  cries  Amelia;  "you  chill  my  blood 
with  horror :  the  idea  freezes  me  to  death.  I  cannot, 
must  not,  will  not  think  it.  Nothing  but  conviction — 
Heaven  forbid  I  should  ever  have  more  conviction. 
And  did  he  abuse  my  husband  1  What !  did  he  abuse  a 
poor,  unhappy,  distressed  creature  ;  oppressed,  ruined, 
torn  from  his  children,  torn  away  from  his  wretched 
wife;  the  honestest,  worthiest,  noblest,  tenderest,  fond- 
est, best — "  Here  she  burst  into  an  agony  of  grief,  which 
exceeds  the  power  of  description. 

In  this  situation,  Mrs.  Atkinson  was  doing  her  utmost 
to  support  her,  when  a  most  violent  knocking  was  heard 
at  the  door,  and  immediately  the  sergeant  ran  hastily  into 
the  room,  bringing  with  him  a  cordial  which  presently 
relieved  Amelia.  W' hat  this  cordial  was,  we  shall  inform 
the  reader  in  due  time.  In  the  mean  while  he  must  sus- 
pend his  curiosity ;  and  the  gentlemen  at  White's  may 
lay  wagers,  whether  it  was  Ward's  pill  or  Doctor 
James's  powder. 


I 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  335 

But  before  we  close  this  chapter,  and  return  back  to 
the  bailiff's  house,  we  must  do  our  best  to  rescue  the 
character  of  our  heroine  from  the  dulness  of  apprehen- 
sion, which  several  of  our  quick-sighted  readers  may  lay 
more  heavily  to  her  charge  than  was  done  by  her  friend 
Mrs.  Atkinson. 

I  must  inform,  therefore,  all  such  readers,  that  it  is 
not  because  innocence  is  more  blind  than  guilt,  that  the 
former  often  overlooks  and  tumbles  into  the  pit,  which 
the  latter  foresees  and  avoids.  The  truth  is,  that  it  is 
almost  impossible  guilt  should  miss  the  discovering  of 
all  the  snares  in  its  way  ;  as  it  is  constantly  prying 
closely  into  every  corner,  in  order  to  lay  snares  for 
others :  whereas  innocence,  having  no  such  purpose, 
walks  fearlessly  and  carelessly  through  life,  and  is  con- 
sequently liable  to  tread  on  the  gins  which  cunning  has 
laid  to  entrap  it.  To  speak  plainly,  and  without  allegory 
or  figure,  it  is  not  want  of  sense,  but  want  of  suspicion, 
by  which  innocence  is  often  betrayed.  Again,  we  often 
admire  at  the  folly  of  the  dupe,  when  we  should  transfei 
our  whole  surprise  to  the  astonishing  guilt  of  the  be- 
trayer. In  a  word,  many  an  innocent  person  has  owec 
his  ruin  to  this  circumstance  alone,  that  the  degree  of 
villany  was  such  as  must  have  exceeded  the  faith  of 
every  man  who  was  not  himself  a  villain. 


Chapter  X. — In  which  are  many  profound  secrets  of  philosophy. 

Booth,  having  had  enough  of  the  author's  company 
the  preceding  day,  chose  now  another  companion.  In- 
deed, the  author  was  not  very  solicitous  of  a  second  in- 
terview; for,  as  he  could  have  no  hope  from  Booth's 
pocket,  so  he  was  not  likely  to  receive  much  increase 
to  his  vanity  from  Booth's  conversation  ;  for  low  as 
this  wretch  was  in  virtue,  sense,  learning,  birth,  and 
fortune,  he  was  by  no  means  low  in  his  vanity.  This 
passion,  indeed,  was  so  high  in  him,  and  at  the  same 
time  so  blinded  him  to  his  own  demerits,  that  he  hated 
every  man  who  did  not  either  flatter  him  or  give  him 
money.  In  short,  he  claimed  a  strange  kind  of  right; 
either  to  cheat  all  his  acquaintance  of  their  praise,  or 
to  pick  their  pockets  of  their  pence  ;  in  which  latter 
case,  he  himself  repaid  very  hberaily  with  panegyric. 


336  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

A  very  little  specimen  of  such  a  fellow  must  have  sat- 
isfied a  man  of  Mr.  Booth's  temper.  He  chose,  there- 
fore, now  to  associate  himself  with  that  gentleman,  of 
whom  Bondum  had  given  so  shabby  a  character.  In 
short,  Mr.  Booth's  opinion  of  the  bailiff  was  such, 
that  he  recommended  a  man  most  where  he  least  in- 
tended it.  Nay,  the  bailiff,  in  the  present  instance, 
though  he  had  drawn  a  mahcious  conclusion,  honestly 
avowed  that  this  was  drawn  only  from  the  poverty  of 
the  person,  which  is  never,  I  believe,  any  forcible  dis- 
recommendation  to  a  good  mind  ;  but  he  must  have  had 
a  very  bad  mind  indeed  who,  in  Mr.  Booth's  circum- 
stances, could  have  disliked  or  despised  another  man 
because  that  other  man  was  poor. 

Some  previous  conversation  having  passed  between 
this  gentleman  and  Booth,  in  which  they  had  both 
opened  their  several  situations  to  each  other,  the  for- 
mer, casting  an  affectionate  look  on  the  latter,  expressed 
great  compassion  for  his  circumstances;  for  which 
Booth  thanking  him,  said,  "  You  must  have  a  great  deal 
of  compassion,  and  be  a  very  good  man,  in  such  a  ter- 
rible situation  as  you  describe  yourself,  to  have  any  pity 
to  spare  for  other  people." 

"  My  affairs,  sir,"  answered  the  gentleman,  "  are  very 
bad,  it  is  true  ;  and  yet  there  is  one  circumstance,  which 
makes  you  appear  to  me  more  the  object  of  pity  than  I 
am  to  myself;  and  it  is  this ;  that  you  must,  from  your 
years,  be"^a  novice  in  affliction  ;  whereas,  I  have  served 
a  long  apprenticeship  to  misery,  and  ought,  by  this  time, 
to  be  a  pretty  good  master  of  my  trade.  To  say  the 
truth,  I  beheve  habit  teaches  men  to  bear  the  burdens 
of  the  mind,  as  it  inures  them  to  bear  heavy  burdens  on 
their  shoulders.  Without  use  and  experience,  the 
strongest  minds  and  bodies  both  will  stagger  under  a 
weight  which  habit  might  render  easy,  and  even  con- 
temptible." 

"  There  is  great  justice,"  cries  Booth,  "  in  the  com- 
parison :  and  I  think  I  have  myself  experienced  the 
truth  of  it ;  for  I  am  not  that  tyro  in  affliction  which 
you  seem  to  apprehend  me  :  and,  perhaps,  it  is  from  the 
very  habit  you  mention  that  1  am  able  to  support  my 
present  misfortunes  a  little  like  a  man." 

The  gentleman  smiled  at  this,  and  cried,  "  Indeed, 
captain,  you  are  a  young  philosopher." 

"  I  think,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  have  some  pretensions  to 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  337 

that  philosophy  which  is  taught  by  misfortunes;  and 
you  seem  to  be  of  opinion,  sir,  that  is  one  of  the  best 
schools  of  philosophy." 

"I  mean  no  more,  sir,"  said  the  gentleman,  "than 
that  in  the  days  of  our  affliction  we  are  inclined  to  think 
more  seriously  than  in  those  seasons  of  life  when  we 
are  engaged  m  the  hurrying  pursuits  of  business  and 
pleasure,  when  we  have  neither  leisure  nor  inclination 
to  sift  and  examine  things  to  the  bottom.  Now,  there 
are  two  considerations,  which,  from  my  having  long 
fixed  my  thoughts  upon  them,  have  greatly  supported 
me  under  all  my  afflictions.  The  one  is  the  brevity  of 
life,  even  at  its  longest  duration,  which  the  wisest  of 
men  has  compared  to  the  short  dimension  of  a  span. 
One  of  the  Roman  poets  compares  it  to  the  duration  of 
a  race,  and  another  to  the  much  shorter  transition  of  a 
wave. 

"  The  second  consideration  is  the  uncertainty  of  it. 
Short  as  its  utmost  limits  are,  it  is  far  from  being  as- 
sured of  reaching  those  limits.  The  next  day,  the  next 
hour,  the  next  moment  may  be  the  end  of  our  course. 
Now  of  what  value  is  so  uncertain,  so  precarious  a  sta- 
tion 1  This  consideration,  indeed,  however  lightly  it  is 
passed  over  in  our  conception,  does,  in  a  great  meas- 
ure, level  all  fortunes  and  conditions  ;  and  gives  no 
man  a  right  to  triumph  in  the  happiest  state,  or  any 
reason  to  repine  in  the  most  miserable.  Would  the 
most  worldly  men  see  this  in  the  light  in  which  they 
examine  all  other  matters,  they  would  soon  feel  and  ac- 
knowledge the  force  of  this  way  of  reasoning ;  for  which 
of  them  would  give  any  price  for  an  estate  from  which 
they  were  liable  to  be  immediately  ejected  1  or,  would 
they  not  laugh  at  him  as  a  madman  who  accounted 
himself  rich  from  such  an  uncertain  possession?  This 
is  the  fountain,  sir,  from  which  I  have  drawn  my  phi- 
losophy :  hence  it  is  that  I  have  learned  to  look  on  all 
those  things  which  are  esteemed  the  blessings  of  life, 
and  those  which  are  dreaded  as  its  evils,  with  such  a 
degree  of  indifference,  that,  as  I  should  not  be  elated 
with  possessing  the  former,  so  neither  am  I  greatly  de- 
jected and  depressed  by  suffering  the  latter.  Is  the  actor 
esteemed  happier,  to  whose  lot  it  falls  to  play  the  prin- 
cipal part,  than  he  who  plays  the  lowest  1  and  yet,  the 
drama  may  run  twenty  nights  together,  and,  by  conse- 
quence, may  outlast  our  lives ;  but,  at  the  best,  life  is 
29  P 


338  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

only  a  little  longer  drama  ;  and  the  business  of  the  ^eat 
stage  is  consequently  a  little  more  serious  than  that 
which  is  performed  at  the  Theatre  Royal.  But  even  here, 
the  catastrophes  and  calamities  which  are  represented 
are  capable  of  affecting  us.  The  wisest  men  can  deceive 
themselves  into  feeling  the  distresses  of  the  tragedy, 
though  they  know  them  to  be  merely  imaginary  ;  and 
the  children  will  often  lament  them  as  realities :  what 
wonder,  then,  if  these  tragical  scenes,  which  I  allow  to 
be  a  little  more  serious,  should  a  little  more  affect  us  1 
Where,  then,  is  the  remedy  but  in  the  philosophy  I  have 
mentioned  ;  which,  when  once,  by  a  long  course  of  med- 
itation, it  is  reduced  to  a  habit,  teaches  us  to  set  a  just 
value  on  everything  ;  and  cures,  at  once,  all  eager  wishes 
and  abject  fears,  all  violent  joy  and  grief,  concerning 
objects  which  cannot  endure  long,  and  may  not  exist  a 
moment]" 

"  You  have  expressed  yourself  extremely  well,"  cries 
Booth ;  "  and  I  entirely  agree  with  the  justice  of  your 
sentiments ;  but,  however  true  all  this  may  be  in  theory, 
I  still  doubt  its  efficacy  in  practice  :  and  the  cause  of 
the  difference  between  these  two  is  this ;  that  we  reason 
from  our  heads,  but  act  from  our  hearts  : — 

'  Video  meliora,  proboque  ; 

Deteriora  sequor.' 

Nothing  can  differ  more  widely  than  wise  men  and  fools 
in  their  estimation  of  things  ;  but,  as  both  act  from  their 
uppermost  passion,  they  both  often  act  alike.  What 
comfort,  then,  can  your  philosophy  give  to  an  avaricious 
man  who  is  deprived  of  his  riches,  or  to  an  ambitious 
man  who  is  stripped  of  his  power  ]  to  the  fond  lover 
who  is  torn  from  his  mistress,  or  to  the  tender  husband 
who  is  dragged  from  his  wife  1  Do  you  really  think 
that  any  meditations  on  the  shortness  of  life  will  sooth 
them  in  their  afflictions  1  Is  not  this  very  shortness  it- 
self one  of  their  afflictions  1  and,  if  the  evil  they  suffer 
be  a  temporary  deprivation  of  what  they  love,  will  they 
not  think  their  fate  the  harder,  and  lament  the  more, 
that  they  are  to  lose  any  part  of  an  enjoyment  to  which 
there  is  so  short  and  so  uncertain  a  period  V 

"  I  beg  leave,  sir,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  to  distinguish 
here.  By  philosophy,  I  do  not  mean  the  bare  knowl- 
edge of  right  and  wrong;  but  an  energy,  a  habit,  as 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA,  339 

Aristotle  calls  it;  and  this  I  do  firmly  believe,  with  him 
and  with  the  stoics,  is  superior  to  all  the  attacks  of  for- 
tune." 

He  was  proceeding,  when  the  bailiff  came  in,  and,  in 
a  surly  tone,  bade  them  both  good-morrow  ;  after  which, 
he  asked  the  philosopher  if  he  was  prepared  to  go  to 
Newgate ;  for  that  he  must  carry  him  thither  that  after- 
noon. 

The  poor  man  seemed  very  much  shocked  with  the 
news.  "  1  hope,"  cries  he,  "  you  will  give  a  little  longer 
time,  if  not  till  the  return  of  the  writ:  but  I  beg  you 
particularly  not  to  carry  me  thither  to-day  ;  for  1  ex- 
pect my  wife  and  children  here  in  the  evening." 

*'  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  wives  and  children,"  cries 
the  bailiff;  "  I  never  desire  to  see  wives  and  children 
here.     1  like  no  such  company." 

"  I  entreat  you,"  said  the  prisoner,  "  give  me  another 
day.  I  shall  take  it  as  a  great  obligation  ;  and  you  will 
disappoint  me  in  the  cruellest  maimer  in  the  world  if 
you  refuse  me." 

"  I  can't  help  people's  disappointment,"  cries  the 
bailiff;  "  I  must  consider  myself  and  my  own  family. 
I  know  not  where  I  shall  be  paid  the  money  that's  due 
already.  I  can't  afford  to  keep  prisoners  at  my  own  ex- 
pense." 

"  I  don't  intend  it  shall  be  at  your  expense,"  cries  the 
philosopher :  "  my  wife  is  gone  to  raise  money  this 
morning;  and  I  hope  to  pay  you  all  I  owe  you  at  her 
arrival.  But  we  intend  to  sup  together  to-night  at  your 
house  ;  and  if  you  should  remove  me  now,  it  would  be 
the  most  barbarous  disappointment  to  us  both,  and  will 
make  me  the  most  miserable  man  alive." 

"  Nay,  for  my  part,"  said  the  bailiff,  "  I  don't  desire  to 
do  anything  barbarous.  1  know  how  to  treat  gentlemen 
with  civility  as  well  as  another :  and  when  people  pay 
as  they  go,  and  spend  their  money  like  gentlemen,  I  am 
sure  nobody  can  accuse  me  of  any  incivility  since  I 
have  been  in  the  office ;  and  if  you  intend  to  be  merry 
to-night,  I  am  not  the  man  that  will  prevent  it.  Though 
I  say  it,  you  may  have  as  good  a  supper  dressed  here  as 
at  any  tavern  in  town." 

"  Since  Mr.  Bondum  is  so  kind,  captain,"  said  the 

fhilosopher,  "  I  hope  for  the  favour  of  your  company, 
assure  you,  if  it  ever  be  my  fortune  to  go  abroad  into 
P2 


340  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

the  world,  I  shall  be  proud  of  the  honour  of  your  ac- 
quaintance." 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  "  it  is  an  honour  I  shall  be 
very  ready  to  accept ;  but,  as  for  this  evening,  I  cannot 
help  saying,  I  hope  to  be  engaged  in  another  place." 

"  I  promise  you,  sir,"  answered  the  other,  "  I  shall  re- 
joice at  your  liberty,  though  I  am  a  loser  by  it." 

"  Why,  as  to  that  matter,"  cries  Bondum,  with  a  sneer, 
*'  I  fancy,  captain,  you  may  engage  yourself  to  the  gen- 
tleman without  any  fear  of  breaking  your  word ;  for  I 
am  very  much  mistaken  if  we  part  to-day." 

"Pardon  me,  my  good  friend,"  said  Booth,  "  but  I  ex- 
pect my  bail  every  minute." 

"  Lookee,  sir,"  cries  Bondum,  "  I  don't  love  to  se-e 
gentlemen  in  an  error.  I  shall  not  take  the  sergeant's 
bail ;  and  as  for  the  colonel,  I  have  been  with  him  my- 
self this  morning,  (for  to  be  sure  I  love  to  do  all  I  can 
for  gentlemen,)  and  he  told  me  he  could  not  possibly  be 
here  to-day :  besides,  why  should  I  mince  the  matter  1 
there  is  more  stuff  in  the  office." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  stuff?"  cries  Booth. 

"  I  mean  that  there  is  another  writ,"  answered  the 
bailiff,  "  at  the  suit  of  ■Mrs.  Ellison,  the  gentlewoman 
that  was  here  yesterday ;  and  the  attorney  fhat  was  with 
her  is  concerned  against  you.  Some  officers  would  not 
tell  you  all  this  :  i^ut  I  loves  to  show  civility  to  gentle- 
men while  they  behave  themselves  as  such  ;  and  1  loves 
the  gentlemen  of  the  army  in  particular.  I  had  hke  to 
have  been  in  the  army  myself  once  ;  but  I  hked  the 
commission  I  have  better.  Come,  captain,  let  not  your 
noble  courage  be  cast  down  :  what  say  you  to  a  glass  of 
white  wine,  or  a  tiff  of  punch,  by  way  of  whet  V 

"  I  have  told  you,  sir,  I  never  drink  in  the  morning," 
cries  Booth,  a  little  peevishly. 

"  No  offence,  I  hope,  sir,"  said  the  bailiff;  "I  hope  I 
have  not  treated  you  with  any  incivility.  I  don't  ask 
any  gentleman  to  call  for  liquor  in  my  house,  if  he  does 
not  choose  it  ;  nor  I  don't  desire  anybody  to  stay  here 
longer  than  they  have  a  mind  to.  Newgate,  to  be  sure, 
is  the  place  for  all  debtors  that  can't  find  bail.  I  knows 
what  civility  is,  and  I  scorn  to  behave  myself  unbecom- 
ing a  gentleman  ;  but  I'd  have  you  consider  that  the 
twenty-four  hours  appointed  by  act  of  parliament  are 
almost  out ;  and  so  it  is  time  to  think  of  removing.  As 
to  bail,  I  would  not  have  you  flatter  yourself;  for  I 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  341- 

knows  very  well  there  are  other  things  coming  against 
you:  besides,  the  sum  you  are  already  charged  with  is 
very  large ;  and  I  must  see  you  in  a  place  of  safety. 
My  house  is  no  prison,  though  I  lock  up  for  a  little  time 
in  it.  Indeed,  when  gentlemen  are  gentlemen,  and  likely 
to  find  bail,  I  don't  stand  for  a  day  or  two  ;  but  I  have  a 
good  nose  at  a  bit  of  carrion,  captain :  I  have  not  car- 
ried so  much  carrion  to  Newgate  without  knowing  the 
smell  of  it." 

"  I  understand  not  your  cant,"  cries  Booth  ;  "  but  I 
did  not  think  to  have  offended  you  so  much  by  refusing 
to  drink  in  a  morning." 

'♦Offended  me,  sir?"  cries  the  bailiff.  "Who  told 
you  so  1  Do  you  think,  sir,  if  I  want  a  glass  of  wine  I 
am  under  any  necessity  of  asking  my  prisoners  for  it  1 
D — n  it,  sir,  I'll  show  you  I  scorn  your  words.  I  can 
afford  to  treat  you  with  a  glass  of  the  best  wine  in 
England,  if  you  comes  to  that."  He  then  pulled  out  a 
handful  of  guineas,  saying,  "  There,  sir,  they  are  all  my 
own  :  I  owe  nobody  a  shilling.  I  am  no  beggar,  nor  no 
debtor.  I  am  the  king's  officer,  as  well  as  you,  and  I 
will  spend  guinea  for  guinea  as  long  as  you  please." 

"  Harkee,  rascal,"  cries  Booth,  laying  hold  of  the  bail- 
iff's collar ;  "  how  dare  you  treat  me  with  this  insolence  ? 
does  the  law  give  you  any  authority  to  insult  me  in  my 
misfortunes'?"  At  which  words  he  gave  the  bailiff  a 
good  shove,  and  threw  him  from  him. 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  cries  the  bailiff ;  "  I  will  swear  both 
an  assault  and  an  attempt  to  rescue.  If  officers  are  to 
be  used  in  this  manner,  there  is  an  end  of  all  law  and 
justice.  But  though  I  am  not  a  match  for  you  myself, 
I  have  those  below  that  are."  He  then  ran  to  the  door, 
and  called  up  two  ill-looking  fellows,  his  followers, 
whom,  as  soon  as  they  entered  the  room,  he  ordered  to 
seize  on  Booth,  declaring  he  would  immediately  carry 
him  to  Newgate  ;  at  the  same  time  pouring  out  a  vast 
<juantity  of  abuse,  below  the  dignity  of  history  to  re- 
cord. 

Booth  desired  the  two  dirty  fellows  to  stand  off, 
and  declared  he  would  make  no  resistance ;  at  the 
same  time  bidding  the  bailiff  to  carry  him  wherever  he 
durst. 

"  I'll  show  you  what  I  dare,"  cries  the  bailiff;  and 
again  ordered  the  followers  to  lay  hold  of  their  prisoner, 
saying, "  He  has  assaulted  me  already,  and  endeavoured 
29* 


342  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

a  rescue.  I  sha'n't  trust  such  a  fellow  to  walk  at  liberty. 
A  gentleman,  indeed !  ay,  ay,  Newgate  is  the  properest 
place  for  such  gentry:  as  arrant  carrion  as  ever  was 
carried  thither." 

The  fellows  then  both  laid  violent  hands  on  Booth, 
and  the  bailiff  stepped  to  the  door  to  order  a  coach ; 
when,  on  a  sudden,  the  whole  scene  was  changed  in  an 
instant ;  for  now  the  sergeant  came  running  out  of 
breath  into  the  room ;  and,  seeing  his  friend  the  captain 
roughly  handled  by  two  ill-looking  fellows,  without  ask- 
ing any  questions,  stepped  briskly  up  to  his  assistance, 
and  instantly  gave  one  of  the  assailants  so  violent  a  sa- 
lute with  his  fist,  that  he  directly  measured  his  length 
on  the  floor. 

Booth,  having  by  this  means  his  right  arm  at  liberty, 
was  unwilling  to  be  idle,  or  entirely  to  owe  his  rescue 
from  both  the  ruffians  to  the  sergeant ;  he  therefore  imi- 
tated  the  example  which  his  friend  had  set  him,  and  with 
a  lusty  blow  levelled  the  other  follower  with  his  com- 
panion on  the  ground. 

The  bailiff  roared  out,  "  A  rescue,  a  rescue !"  to  which 
the  sergeant  answered,  there  was  no  rescue  intended. 
*'  The  captain,"  said  he,  "  wants  no  rescue.  Here  are 
some  friends  coming,  who  will  dehver  him  in  a  better 
manner." 

The  bailiff  swore  heartily  he  would  carry  him  to  New- 
gate in  spite  of  all  the  friends  in  the  world. 

"You  carry  him  to  Newgate!"  cried  the  sergeant, 
with  the  highest  indignation,  "  Offer  but  to  lay  your 
hands  on  him,  and  I  will  knock  your  teeth  down  your 
ugly  jaws."  Then  turning  to  Booth,  he  cried,  "They 
will  be  all  here  within  a  minute,  sir :  we  had  much 
ado  to  keep  my  lady  from  coming  herself;  but  she 
is  at  home  in  good  health,  longing  to  see  your  hon- 
our; and  I  hope  you  will  be  with  her  within  this  half- 
hour." 

And  now  three  gentlemen  entered  the  room  ;  these 
were  an  attorney,  the  person  whom  the  sergeant  had 
procured  in  the  morning  to  be  his  bail  with  Colonel 
James,  and,  lastly.  Doctor  Harrison  himself. 

The  bailiff  no  sooner  saw  the  attorney,  with  whom  he 
was  well  acquainted,  (for  the  others  he  knew  not,)  than 
he  began,  as  the  phrase  is,  to  pull  in  his  horns,  and  or- 
dered the  two  followers,  who  were  now  got  again  on 
their  legs,  to  walk  down  stairs. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  34^ 

"  So,  captain,"  says  the  doctor,  "  when  last  we  parted 
1  believe  we  neither  of  us  expected  to  meet  in  such  a 
place  as  this." 

"  Indeed,  doctor,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  did  not  expect  to 
have  been  sent  hither  by  the  gentleman  who  did  me  that 
favour." 

"  How  so,  sir  ?"  said  the  doctor ;  "  you  was  sent  hither 
by  some  person,  I  suppose,  to  whom  you  was  indebted. 
This  is  the  usual  place,  I  apprehend,  for  creditors  to 
send  their  debtors  to.  But  you  ought  to  be  more  sur- 
prised that  the  gentleman  who  sent  you  thither  is  come 
to  release  you.  Mr.  Murphy,  you  will  perform  all  the 
necessary  ceremonials." 

The  attorney  then  asked  the  bailiff  with  how  many 
actions  Booth  was  charged ;  and  was  informed  there 
were  five  besides  the  doctor's,  which  was  much  the 
heaviest  of  all.  Proper  bonds  were  presently  provided, 
and  the  doctor  and  the  sergeant's  friend  signed  them ; 
the  bailiff,  at  the  instance  of  the  attorney,  making  no 
objection  to  the  bail. 

Booth,  we  may  be  assured,  made  a  handsome  speech 
to  the  doctor  for  such  extraordinary  friendship,  with 
which,  however,  we  do  not  think  proper  to  trouble  the 
reader :  and  now,  everything  being  ended,  and  the  com- 
pany ready  to  depart,  the  bailiff  stepped  up  to  Booth, 
and  told  him  he  hoped  he  would  remember  civility 
money. 

"  I  believe,"  cries  Booth, "  you  mean  incivility  money  : 
if  there  be  any  fees  due  for  rudeness,  I  must  own  you 
have  a  very  just  claim." 

"  1  am  sure,  sir,"  cries  the  bailiff, "  I  have  treated  your 
honour  with  all  the  respect  in  the  world  :  no  man,  1  am 
sure,  can  charge  me  with  using  a  gentleman  rudely. 
I  knows  what  belongs  to  a  gentleman  better ;  but  you 
can't  deny  that  two  of  my  men  have  been  knocked  down  ; 
and  I  doubt  not  but,  as  you  are  a  gentleman,  you  will 
give  them  something  to  drink." 

Booth  was  about  to  answer  with  some  passion,  when 
the  attorney  interfered,  and  whispered  in  his  ear,  that 
it  was  usual  to  make  a  compliment  to  the  officer,  and 
;lhat  he  had  better  comply  with  the  custom. 

"If  the  fellow  had  treated  me  civilly,"  answered 
Booth,  *'  I  should  have  no  objection  to  comply  with  a 
bad  custom  in  his  favour;  but  I  am  resolved  I  will 


344  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

never  reward  a  man  for  using  me  ill;  and  I  will  not 
agree  to  give  him  a  single  farthing." 

'"Tisvery  well,  sir,"  said  the  bailiff;  "I  am  rightly- 
served  for  my  good-nature  :  but  if  it  had  been  to  do  again, 
I  would  have  taken  care  you  should  not  have  been  bailed 
this  day." 

Doctor  Harrison,  to  whom  Booth  referred  the  cause, 
after  giving  him  a  succinct  account  of  what  had  passed, 
declared  the  captain  to  be  in  the  right.  He  said  it  was 
a  most  horrid  imposition  that  such  fellows  were  ever 
suffered  to  prey  on  the  necessitous  ;  but  that  the  exam- 
ple would  be  much  worse  to  reward  them  where  they 
had  behaved  themselves  ill.  "  And  I  think,"  says  he, 
"  the  bailiff  is  worthy  of  great  rebuke  for  what  he  has 
just  now  said  ;  in  which  I  hope  he  has  boasted  of  more 
power  than  is  in  him.  We  do,  indeed,  with  great  justice 
and  propriety,  value  ourselves  on  our  freedom,  if  the 
liberty  of  the  subject  depends  on  the  pleasure  of  such 
fellows  as  these  I" 

"It  is  not  so  neither  altogether,"  cries  the  lawyer; 
"  but  custom  has  established  a  present  or  fee  to  them  at 
the  delivery  of  a  prisoner,  which  they  call  civility  money, 
and  expect  as  in  a  manner  their  due,  though  in  reality 
they  have  no  right." 

"  But  will  any  man,"  cries  Doctor  Harrison,  "  after 
■what  the  captain  has  told  us,  say  that  the  bailiff  has  be- 
haved himself  as  he  ought ;  and,  if  he  had,  is  he  to  be 
rewarded  for  not  acting  in  an  unchristian  and  inhuman 
manner  1  It  is  pity  that,  instead  of  a  custom  of  feeing 
them  out  of  the  pockets  of  the  poor  and  wretched,  when 
they  do  not  behave  themselves  ill,  there  was  not  both 
a  law  and  a  practice  to  punish  them  severely  when  they 
do.  In  the  present  case,  I  am  so  far  from  agreeing  to 
give  the  bailiff  a  shilling,  that,  if  there  be  any  method  of 
punishing  him  for  his  rudeness,  I  shall  be  heartily  glad 
to  see  it  put  in  execution;  for  there  are  none  whose 
conduct  should  be  so  strictly  watched  as  that  of  these 
necessary  evils  in  society ;  as  their  office  concerns,  for 
the  most  part,  those  poor  creatures  who  cannot  do  them- 
selves justice,  and  as  they  are  generally  the  worst  of 
men  who  undertake  it." 

The  bailiff  then  quitted  the  room,  muttering  that  he 
should  know  better  what  to  do  another  time;  and 
shortly  after  Booth  and  his  friends  left  the  house  ;  but, 
as  they  were  going  out,  the  author  took  Doctor  Harri- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  345 

son  aside,  and  slipped  a  receipt  into  his  hand,  which  the 
doctor  returned,  saying,  he  never  subscribed  when  he 
neither  knew  the  work  nor  the  author ;  but  that,  if  he 
would  call  at  his  lodgings,  he  would  be  very  willing  to 
give  all  the  encouragement  to  merit  which  was  in  his 
power. 

The  author  took  down  the  doctor's  name  and  direc- 
tion, and  made  him  as  many  bows  as  he  would  have 
done  had  he  carried  off  the  half  guinea  for  which  he  had 
been  fishing. 

Mr.  Booth  then  took  his  leave  of  the  philosopher,  and 
departed  with  the  rest  of  his  friends. 


BOOK   IX. 

Chapter  I. — In  which  the  history  looks  backward. 

Before  we  proceed  further  with  our  history,  it  may- 
be proper  to  look  back  a  Uttle,  in  order  to  account  for 
the  late  conduct  of  Dr.  Harrison ;  which,  however  in- 
consistent it  may  have  hitherto  appeared,  when  exam- 
ined to  the  bottom,  will  be  found,  I  apprehend,  to  be 
truly  congruous  with  all  the  rules  of  the  most  perfect 
prudence,  as  well  as  with  the  most  consummate  good- 
ness. 

We  have  already  partly  seen  in  what  light  Booth  had 
been  represented  to  the  doctor  abroad.  Indeed,  the  ac- 
counts which  were  sent  of  the  captain,  as  well  by  the 
curate  as  by  a  gentleman  of  the  neighbourhood,  were 
much  grosser,  and  more  to  his  disadvantage,  than  the 
doctor  was  pleased  to  set  them  forth  in  his  letter  to  the 
person  accused.  What  sense  he  had  of  Booth's  con- 
duct was,  however,  manifest  by  that  letter.  Neverthe- 
less, he  resolved  to  suspend  his  final  judgment  till  his 
return ;  and,  though  he  censured  him,  would  not  abso- 
lutely condemn  him  without  ocular  demonstration. 

The  doctor,  on  his  return  to  his  parish,  found  all  the 
accusations  which  had  been  transmitted  to  him  con- 
firmed by  many  witnesses,  of  which  the  curate's  wife, 
who  had  been  formerly  a  friend  to  Amelia,  and  still  pre- 
served the  outward  appearance  of  friendship,  was  the 
P3 


346  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

Strongest,  She  introduced  all  with — "I  am  sorry  to 
say  it ;"  and  "  it  is  friendship  which  bids  me  speak ;" 
and  "it  is  for  their  good  it  should  be  told  you :"  after 
which  beginnings,  she  never  concluded  a  single  speech 
without  some  horrid  slander  and  bitter  invective. 

Besides  the  malicious  turn  which  was  given  to  these 
affairs  in  the  country,  which  were  owing  a  good  deal  to 
misfortune,  and  some  little,  perhaps,  to  imprudence,  the 
whole  neighbourhood  rung  with  several  gross  and  scan- 
dalous lies,  which  were  merely  the  inventions  of  his 
enemies,  and  of  which  the  scene  was  laid  in  London 
since  his  absence. 

Poisoned  with  all  this  malice,  the  doctor  came  to  town, 
and  learning  where  Booth  lodged,  went  to  make  him  a 
visit.  Indeed,  it  was  the  doctor,  and  no  other,  who  had 
been  at  his  lodgings  that  evening  when  Booth  and  Ame- 
lia were  walking  in  the  Park  ;  and  concerning  which  the 
reader  may  be  pleased  to  remember  so  many  strange 
and  odd  conjectures. 

Here  the  doctor  saw  the  little  gold  watch,  and  all 
those  fine  trinkets  with  which  the  noble  lord  had  pre- 
sented the  children  ;  and  which,  from  the  answers  given 
him  by  the  poor,  ignorant,  innocent  girl,  he  could  have 
no  doubt  had  been  purchased  within  a  few  days  by 
Amelia. 

This  account  tallied  so  well  with  the  ideas  he  had  im- 
bibed of  Booth's  extravagance  in  the  country,  that  he 
firmly  believed  both  the  husband  and  wife  to  be  the 
vainest,  silliest,  and  most  unjust  people  alive.  It  was, 
indeed,  almost  incredible,  that  two  rational  beings  should 
be  guilty  of  such  absurdity ;  but,  monstrous  and  absurd 
as  it  was,  ocular  demonstration  appeared  to  be  the  evi- 
dence against  them. 

The  doctor  departed  from  their  lodgings  enraged  at 
this  supposed  discovery,  and,  unhappily  for  Booth,  was 
engaged  to  supper  that  very  evening  with  the  country 
gentleman  of  whom  Booth  had  rented  a  farm.  As  the 
poor  captain  happened  to  be  the  subject  of  conversation, 
and  occasioned  their  comparing  notes,  the  account 
which  the  doctor  gave  of  what  he  had  seen  that  even- 
ing so  incensed  the  gentleman,  to  whom  Booth  was 
likewise  a  debtor,  that  he  vowed  he  would  take  a  writ 
out  against  him  the  next  morning,  and  have  his  body, 
alive  or  dead ;  and  the  doctor  was  at  last  persuaded  to  do 
the  same.     Mr.  Murphy  was  thereupon  immediately 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  347 

sent  for,  and  the  doctor  in  his  presence  repeated  again 
what  he  had  seen  at  his  lodgings,  as  the  foundation  of 
his  suing  him,  which  the  attorney,  as  we  have  before 
seen,  had  blabbed  to  Atkinson. 

But  no  sooner  did  the  doctor  hear  that  Booth  was  ar- 
rested, than  the  wretched  condition  of  his  wife  and  fa'u- 
ily  began  to  affect  his  mind.  The  children,  who  were 
to  be  utterly  undone  with  their  father,  were  entirely 
innocent ;  and  as  for  Amelia  herself,  though  he  thought 
he  had  most  convincing  proofs  of  very  blameable  levity, 
yet  his  former  friendship  and  affection  to  her  were  busy 
to  invent  every  excuse,  till,  by  very  heartily  loading 
the  husband,  they  lightened  the  suspicion  against  the 
wife. 

In  this  temper  of  mind  he  resolved  to  pay  Amelia  a 
second  visit,  and  was  on  his  way  to  Mrs.  Ellison,  when 
the  sergeant  met  him,  and  made  himself  known  to  him. 
The  doctor  took  his  old  servant  into  a  coffee-house, 
where  he  received  from  him  such  an  account  of  Booth 
and  his  family,  that  he  desired  the  sergeant  to  show 
him  presently  to  Amelia  ;  and  this  was  the  cordial  which 
we  mentioned  at  the  end  of  the  ninth  chapter  of  the 
preceding  book. 

The  doctor  became  soon  satisfied  concerning  the 
trinkets  which  had  given  him  so  much  uneasiness,  and 
which  had  brought  so  much  mischief  on  the  head  of  poor 
Booth.  Amelia  likewise  gave  the  doctor  some  satisfac- 
tion as  to  what  he  had  heard  of  her  husband's  behaviour 
in  the  country;  and  assured  him,  upon  her  honour,  that 
Booth  could  so  well  answer  every  complaint  against  his 
conduct,  that  she  had  no  doubt  but  that  a  man  of  the 
doctor's  justice  and  candour  would  entirely  acquit  him, 
and  would  consider  him  as  an  innocent,  unfortunate 
man,  who  was  the  object  of  a  good  man's  compassion, 
not  of  his  anger  or  resentment. 

This  worthy  clergyman,  who  was  not  desirous  of 
finding  proofs  to  condemn  the  captain,  or  to  justify  his 
own  vindictive  proceedings,  but,  on  the  contrary,  re- 
joiced heartily  in  every  piece  of  evidence  which  tended 
to  clear  up  the  character  of  his  friend,  gave  a  ready  ear 
to  all  which  Amelia  said.  To  this,  indeed,  he  was  in- 
duced, by  the  love  he  always  had  for  that  lady,  by  the 
good  opinion  he  entertained  of  her,  as  well  as  by  pity 
for  her  present  condition,  than  which  nothing  appeared 
more  miserable ;  for  he  found  her  in  the  highest  agonies 


348  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

of  grief  and  despair,  with  her  two  little  children  crying 
over  their  wretched  mother.  These  are,  indeed,  to  a 
M'ell-disposed  mind,  the  most  tragical  sights  that  human 
nature  can  furnish,  and  afford  a  juster  motive  to  grief 
and  tears  in  the  beholder  than  it  would  be  to  see  all  the 
heroes  who  have  ever  infested  the  earth  hanged  all  to- 
gether in  a  string. 

The  doctor  felt  this  sight  as  he  ought.  He  immedi- 
ately endeavoured  to  comfort  the  afflicted  ;  in  which  he 
so  well  succeeded,  that  he  restored  to  Amelia  sufficient 
spirits  to  give  him  the  satisfaction  we  have  mentioned ; 
after  which,  he  declared  he  would  go  and  release  her 
husband ;  which  he  accordingly  did,  in  the  manner  we 
have  above  related. 


Chapter  II. — In  which  the  history  goes  forward. 

We  now  return  to  that  period  of  our  history  to  which 
we  had  brought  it  at  the  end  of  our  last  book. 

Booth  and  his  friends  arrived  from  the  bailiff's,  at  the 
sergeant's  lodgings  ;  where  Booth  immediately  ran  up 
stairs  to  his  Amelia,  between  whom  1  shall  not  attempt 
to  describe  the  meeting  :  nothing  certainly  was  ever 
more  tender  or  more  joyful.  This,  however,  I  will  ob- 
serve, that  a  very  few  of  these  exquisite  moments,  of 
which  the  best  minds  only  are  capable,  do,  in  reality, 
overbalance  the  longest  enjoyments  which  can  ever  fall 
to  the  lot  of  the  worst. 

While  Booth  and  his  wife  were  feasting  their  souls 
with  the  most  delicious  mutual  endearments,  the  doc- 
tor was  fallen  to  play  with  the  two  little  children  below 
stairs.  While  he  was  thus  engaged,  the  little  boy  did 
somewhat  amiss  ;  upon  which  the  doctor  said,  "  If  you 
do  so  any  more,  I  will  take  your  papa  away  from  you 
again."  "Again,  sir V  said  the  child:  "why,  was  it 
you,  then,  that  took  away  my  papa  before  ]"  "  Suppose 
it  was,"  said  the  doctor,  "  would  you  not  forgive  me  ]" 
*'  Yes,"  cries  the  child,  "  I  would  forgive  you,  because  a 
Christian  must  forgive  everybody  ;  but  I  should  hate 
you  as  long  as  I  live." 

The  doctor  was  so  pleased  with  the  boy's  answer,  that 
he  caught  him  in  his  arms  and  kissed  him ;  at  which 
lime  Booth  and  his  wife  returned.    The  dodtor  asked 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  349 

which  of  them  was  their  son's  instructer  in  his  religion. 
Booth  answered,  that  he  must  confess  Amelia  had  all 
the  merit  of  that  kind.  "  1  should  rather  have  thought 
he  had  learned  it  of  his  father,"  cries  the  doctor;  "for 
he  seems  a  good  soldierlike  Christian,  and  professes  to 
hate  his  enemies  with  a  very  good  grace." 

"  How,  Billy  !"  cries  Amelia :  "  1  am  sure  I  did  not 
teach  you  so." 

"  1  did  not  say  I  would  hate  my  enemies,  madam," 
cries  the  boy  :  "  I  only  said  I  would  hate  my  papa's  en- 
emies ;  sure,  mamma,  there  is  no  harm  in  that :  nay,  I 
am  sure  there  is  no  harm  in  it ;  for  I  have  heard  you  say 
the  same  thing  a  thousand  times." 

The  doctor  smiled  on  the  child,  and  chucking  him  un- 
der the  chin,  told  him  he  must  hate  nobody.  And  now, 
Mrs.  Atkinson,  who  had  provided  a  dinner  for  them  all, 
desired  them  to  walk  up  and  partake  of  it. 

And  now  it  was  that  Booth  was  first  made  acquainted 
with  the  sergeant's  marriage,  as  was  Dr.  Harrison,  both 
of  whom  greatly  felicitated  him  upon  it. 

Mrs.  Atkinson,  who  was,  perhaps,  a  little  more  con- 
founded than  she  would  have  been  had  she  married  a 
colonel,  said,  "  If  I  have  done  wrong,  Mrs.  Booth  is  to 
answer  for  it ;  for  she  made  the  match.  Indeed,  Mr. 
Atkinson,  you  are  greatly  obliged  to  the  character  which 
this  lady  gives  of  you."  "  I  hope  he  will  deserve  it," 
said  the  doctor  ;  "  and  if  the  army  has  not  corrupted  a 
good  boy,  I  believe  I  may  answer  for  him." 

While  our  little  company  were  enjoying  that  happi- 
ness which  never  fails  to  attend  conversation  where  all 
present  are  pleased  with  each  other,  a  visitant  arrived, 
who  was,  perhaps,  not  very  welcome  to  any  of  them. 
This  was  no  other  than  Colonel  James ;  who,  entering 
the  room  with  much  gayety,  went  directly  up  to  Booth, 
embraced  him,  and  expressed  great  satisfaction  at  find- 
ing him  there  :  he  then  made  an  apology  for  not  attend- 
ing him  in  the  morning,  which  he  said  had  been  impossi- 
ble ;  and  that  he  had,  with  the  utmost  difficulty,  put  off 
some  business  of  great  consequence,  in  order  to  serve 
him  this  afternoon  ;  "  but  I  am  glad,  on  your  account," 
cried  he  to  Booth,  "  that  my  presence  was  not  neces- 
sary." 

Booth  himself  was  extremely  satisfied  with  this  dec- 
laration, and  failed  not  to  return  him  as  many  thanks 
as  he  would  have  deserved  had  he  performed  his  prora- 
30 


350  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA, 

ise ;  but  the  two  ladies  were  not  quite  so  well  satisfied. 
As  for  the  sergeant,  he  had  slipped  out  of  the  room  when 
the  colonel  entered,  not  entirely  out  of  that  bashfulness 
which  we  have  remarked  him  to  be  tainted  with  ;  but, 
indeed,  from  what  had  passed  in  the  morning,  he  hated 
the  sight  of  the  colonel,  as  well  on  the  account  of  his 
wife  as  on  that  of  his  friend. 

The  doctor,  on  the  contrary,  on  what  he  had  formerly 
heard  from  both  Amelia  and  her  husband  of  the  colo- 
nel's generosity  and  friendship,  had  built  so  good  an 
opinion  of  him,  that  he  was  very  much  pleased  with 
seeing  him,  and  took  the  first  opportunity  of  telling  him 
so.  "  Colonel,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  have  not  the  happi- 
ness of  being  known  to  you ;  but  I  have  long  been  de- 
sirous of  an  acquaintance  with  a  gentleman,  in  whose 
commendation  1  have  heard  so  much  from  some  pres- 
ent." The  colonel  made  a  proper  answer  to  this  com- 
pliment, and  they  soon  entered  into  a  familiar  'conversa- 
tion together;  for  the  doctor  was  not  difficult  of  access; 
indeed,  he  held  the  strange  reserve  wh.ch  is  usually 
practised  in  this  nation  between  people  who  are  in  any 
degree  strangers  to  each  other,  to  be  very  unbecoming 
the  Christian  character. 

The  two  ladies  soon  left  the  room  ;  and  the  remainder 
of  the  visit,  which  was  not  very  long,  passed  in  dis- 
course on  various  common  subjects,  not  worth  record- 
ing. In  the  conclusion,  the  colonel  invited  Booth  and 
his  lady,  and  the  doctor,  to  dine  with  him  the  next  day. 

To  give  Colonel  James  his  due  commendation,  he  had 
shown  a  great  command  of  himself,  and  great  presence 
of  mind  on  this  occasion ;  for,  to  speak  the  plain  truth, 
the  visit  was  intended  to  Amelia  alone;  nor  did  he  ex- 
pect, or  perhaps  desire,  anything  less  than  to  find  the 
captain  at  home.  The  great  joy  which  he  suddenly 
conveyed  into  his  countenance  at  the  unexpected  sight 
of  his  friend,  is  to  be  attributed  to  that  noble  art,  which 
is  taught  in  those  excellent  schools  called  the  several 
courts  of  Europe.  By  this,  men  are  enabled  to  dress 
out  their  countenances  as  much  at  their  own  pleasure  as 
they  do  their  bodies,  and  to  put  on  friendship  with  as 
much  ease  as  they  can  a  laced  coat. 

When  the  colonel  and  doctor  were  gone,  Booth  ac- 
quainted Amelia  with  the  invitation  he  had  received. 
She  was  so  struck  with  the  news,  and  betrayed  such 
visible  marks  of  confusion  and  uneasiness,  that  they 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  351 

could  not  have  escaped  Booth's  observation,  had  suspi 
cion  given  him  the  least  hint  to  remark  ;  but  this,  indeed, 
is  the  great  optic  glass,  helping  us  to  discern  plainly  al- 
most all  that  passes  in  the  minds  of  others,  without 
some  use  of  which  nothing  is  more  purblind  than  human 
nature. 

Amelia,  having  recovered  from  her  first  perturbation, 
answered,  "  My  dear,  I  will  dine  with  you  wherever  you 
please  to  lay  your  commands  on  me."  *'  I  am  obliged 
to  you,  my  dear  soul,"  cries  Booth  :  "  your  obedience 
shall  be  very  easy  ;  for  my  command  will  be,  that  you 
shall  always  follow  your  own  inchnations."  "  My  incli- 
nations," answered  she,  "  would,  1  am  afraid,  be  too  un- 
reasonable a  confinement  to  you ;  for  they  would  always 
lead  me  to  be  with  you  and  your  children,  with  at  most 
a  single  friend  or  two,  now  and  then."  "  Oh,  my  dear," 
replied  he,  "  large  companies  give  us  a  greater  relish 
for  our  own  society  when  we  return  to  it ;  and  we  shall 
be  extremely  merry,  for  Dr.  Harrison  dines  with  us." 
"  I  hope  you  will,  my  dear,"  cries  she  ;  "but  I  own  I 
should  have  been  better  pleased  to  have  enjoyed  a  few 
days  with  yourself  and  the  children,  with  no  other  person 
but  Mrs.  Atkinson,  for  whom  I  have  conceived  a  violent 
afiection,  and  who  would  have  given  us  but  little  inter- 
ruption. However,  if  you  have  promised,  I  must  un- 
dergo the  penance."  "  Nay,  child,"  cried  he,  "  I  am 
sure  I  would  have  refused,  could  I  have  guessed  it  had 
been  in  the  least  disagreeable  to  you  ;  though  I  know 
j'our  objection."  "  Objection  1"  cries  Amelia,  eagerly; 
"  I  have  no  objection."  "  Nay,  nay,"  said  he,  "  come, 
be  honest;  I  know  your  objection,  though  you  are  un- 
willing to  own  it." — "  Good  heavens  !"  cried  Amelia, 
frightened  ;  "  what  do  you  mean  1  what  objection  ]" 
*'  Why,"  answered  he,  "  to  the  company  of  Mrs.  James  ; 
and,  1  must  confess,  she  has  not  behaved  to  you  lately 
as  you  might  have  expected  ;  but  you  ought  to  pass  all 
that  by  for  the  sake  of  her  husband,  to  whom  we  have 
both  so  many  obligations ;  who  is  the  worthiest,  hon- 
estest,  and  most  generous  fellow  in  the  universe,  and  the 
best  friend  to  me  that  ever  man  had." 

Amelia,  who  had  far  other  suspicions,  and  began  to 
fear  that  her  husband  had  discovered  them,  was  highly 
pleased  when  she  saw  him  taking  a  wrong  scent.  She 
gave,  therefore,  a  little  into  the  deceit,  and  acknowledged 
the  truth  of  what  he  had  mentioned ;  but  said  that  the 


352  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

pleasure  she  should  have  in  complying  with  his  desires 
would  highly  recompense  any  dissatisfaction  which 
might  arise  on  any  other  account ;  and  shortly  after 
ended  the  conversation  on  this  subject  with  her  cheer- 
fully promising  to  fulfil  his  promise. 

In  reality,  poor  Amelia  had  now  a  most  unpleasant 
task  to  undertake ;  for  she  thought  it  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  conceal  from  her  husband  the  opinion  she  had 
conceived  of  the  colonel :  for,  as  she  knew  the  characters 
as  well  of  her  husband  as  of  his  friend,  or  rather  enemy, 
(both  being  often  synonymous  in  the  language  of  the 
world,)  she  had  the  utmost  reason  to  apprehend  some- 
thing very  fatal  might  attend  her  husband's  entertaining 
the  same  thought  of  James  which  filled  and  tormented 
her  own  breast. 

And  as  she  knew  that  nothing  but  these  thoughts  could 
justify  the  least  unkind,  or,  indeed,  the  least  reserved 
behaviour  to  James,  who  had,  in  all  appearance,  con- 
ferred the  greatest  obligations  upon  Booth  and  herself, 
she  was  reduced  to  a  dilemma  the  most  dreadful  that 
can  attend  a  virtuous  woman  ;  as  it  often  gives  the  high- 
est triumph,  and  sometimes  no  little  advantage,  to  the 
men  of  professional  gallantry. 

In  short,  to  avoid  giving  any  umbrage  to  her  husband, 
Amelia  was  forced  to  act  in  a  manner  which  she  was 
conscious  must  give  encouragement  to  the  colonel ;  a 
situation  which,  perhaps,  requires  as  great  prudence  and 
delicacy  as  any  in  which  the  heroic  part  of  the  female 
character  can  be  exerted. 


Chapter  III.— A  conversation  between  Dr.  Harrison  and  others. 

The  next  day,  Booth  and  his  lady,  with  the  doctor, 
met  at  Colonel  James's,  where  Colonel  Bath  likewise 
made  one  of  the  company. 

Nothing  very  remarkable  passed  at  dinner,  or  till  the 
ladies  withdrew.  During  this  time,  however,  the  be- 
haviour of  Colonel  James  was  such  as  gave  some  un- 
easiness to  Amelia,  who  well  understood  his  meaning, 
though  the  particulars  were  too  refined  and  subtle  to  be 
observed  by  any  other  present. 

When  the  ladies  were  gone,  which  was  as  soon  as 
Amelia  could  prevail  on  Mrs.  James  to  depart,  Colonel 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  333 

Bath,  who  had  been  pretty  brisk  with  Champagne  at  din- 
ner, soon  began  to  display  his  magnanimity.  "  My 
brother  tells  me,  young  gentleman,"  said  he  to  Booth, 
*'  that  you  have  been  used  very  ill  lately  by  some  ras- 
cals ;  and  1  have  no  doubt  but  you  will  do  yourself  jus- 
tice." 

Booth  answered  that  he  did  not  know  what  he  meant. 
*'  Since  I  must  mention  it  then,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  I 
hear  you  have  been  arrested ;  and  I  think  you  know 
what  satisfaction  is  to  be  required  by  a  man  of  honour." 

"  I  beg,  sir,"  says  the  doctor,  "no  more  may  be  men- 
tioned of  that  matter.  I  am  convinced,  no  satisfaction 
will  be  required  of  the  captain  till  he  is  able  to  give  it." 

"  I  do  not  understand  what  you  mean  by  able,"  cries 
the  colonel.  To  which  the  doctor  answered,  that  it  was 
of  too  tender  a  nature  to  speak  more  of. 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  doctor,"  cries  the  colonel:  "I 
see  you  are  a  man  of  honour,  though  you  wear  a  gown. 
It  is,  as  you  say,  a  matter  of  a  tender  nature.  Nothing, 
indeed,  is  so  tender  as  a  man's  honour.  Curse  my  liver, 
if  any  man — I  mean,  that  is,  if  any  gentleman,  was  to 
arrest  me,  I  would  as  surely  cut  his  throat  as — " 

"  How,  sir !"  said  the  doctor,  "  would  you  compensate 
one  breach  of  the  law  by  a  much  greater,  and  pay  your 
debts  by  committing  murder  V 

"  Why  do  you  mention  law  between  gentlemen  ]" 
says  the  colonel.  "A  man  of  honour  wears  his  law  by 
his  side ;  and  can  the  resentment  of  an  affront  make  a 
gentleman  guilty  of  murder  I  And  what  greater  affront 
can  one  man  cast  upon  another  than  by  arresting  him  1 
I  am  convinced,  that  he  who  would  put  up  an  arrest, 
would  put  up  a  slap  in  the  face." 

Here  the  colonel  looked  extremely  fierce,  and  the 
divine  stared  with  astonishment  at  this  doctrine  ;  when 
Booth,  who  well  knevv  the  impossibility  of  opposing  the 
colonel's  humour  with  success,  began  to  play  with  it ; 
and,  having  first  conveyed  a  private  wink  to  the  doctor, 
he  said,  there  might  be  cases  undoubtedly  where  such  an 
affront  ought  to  be  resented  ;  but  that  there  were  others, 
where  any  resentment  was  impracticable  :  "  as,  for  in- 
stance," said  he,  "  where  the  man  is  arrested  by  a 
woman." 

"  I  could  not  be  supposed  to  mean  that  case,"  cries  the 
colonel ;  "  and  you  are  convinced  I  did  not  mean  it." 

"  To  put  an  end  to  this  discourse  at  once,  sir,"  said  the 
30* 


354  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

doctor,  "  I  was  the  plaintiff  at  whose  suit  this  gentleman 
was  arrested." 

"  Was  you  so,  sir  V  cries  the  colonel ;  "  then  I  have 
no  more  to  say.  Women  and  the  clergy  are  upon  the 
same  footing.  The  long-robed  gentry  are  exempted 
from  the  laws  of  honour." 

"  I  do  not  thank  you  for  that  exemption,  sir,"  cries  the 
doctor ;  "  and  if  honour  and  fighting  are,  as  they  seem  to 
be,  synonymous  words  with  you,  I  believe  there  are 
some  clergymen,  who,  in  defence  of  their  religion,  or 
their  country,  or  their  friend,  the  only  justifiable  causes 
of  fighting,  except  bare  self-defence,  would  fight  as 
bravely  as  yourself,  colonel ;  and  that  without  being  paid 
for  it." 

'*  Sir,  you  are  privileged,"  says  the  colonel,  with  great 
dignity ;  "  and  you  have  my  leave  to  say  what  you  please. 
I  respect  your  order,  and  you  cannot  oflfend  me." 

'*  1  will  not  oflfend  j'ou,  colonel,"  cries  the  doctor ; 
"  and  our  order  is  very  much  obliged  to  you,  since  you 
profess  so  much  respect  to  us,  and  pay  none  to  our 
Master." 

"  What  master,  sir  V  said  the  colonel. 

"  That  Master,"  answered  the  doctor,  "  who  has  ex- 
pressly forbidden  all  that  cutting  of  throats,  to  which  you 
discover  so  much  inclination." 

"  Oh,  your  servant,  sir,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  I  see  what 
you  are  driving  at ;  but  you  shall  not  persuade  me  to 
think  that  religion  forces  me  to  be  a  coward." 

"  I  detest  and  despise  the  name  as  much  as  you  can," 
cries  the  doctor ;  "  but  you  have  a  wrong  idea  of  the 
word,  colonel.  What  were  all  the  Greeks  and  Romans  1 
were  these  cowards  ?  and  yet,  did  you  ever  hear  of  this 
butchery,  which  we  call  duelling,  among  them  V 

"  Yes,  indeed,  have  1,"  cries  the  colonel.  "  What  else 
is  all  Mr.  Pope's  Homer  full  of,  but  duels  1  Did  not, 
what's  his  name  !  one  of  the  Agamemnons,  fight  with 
that  paltry  rascal,  Paris  1  and  Diomede  with,  what  d'ye 
call  him  there?  and  Hector  with.  I  forget  his  name,  he 
that  was  Achilles's  bosom-friend  ;  and  afterward  with 
Achilles  himself?  Nay,  and  in  Dryden's  Virgil,  is  there 
anything  almost  bevsides  fighting  V 

"  You  are  a  man  of  learning,  colonel,"  cries  the  doc- 
tor; "but—" 

"  I  thank  you  for  that  compliment,"  said  the  colonel. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  355 

"  No,  sir,  I  do  not  pretend  to  learning ;  but  I  have  some 
little  reading,  and  1  am  not  ashamed  to  own  it." 

"  But  are  you  sure,  colonel,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  that 
you  have  not  made  a  small  mistake  ?  for  I  am  apt  to  be- 
lieve both  Mr.  Pope  and  Mr.  Dryden  (though  I  cannot 
say  I  ever  read  a  word  of  either  of  them)  speak  of  wars 
between  nations,  and  not  of  private  duels :  for,  of  the 
latter,  I  do  not  remember  one  single  instance  in  all  the 
Greek  and  Roman  slory.  In  short,  it  is  a  modern  cus- 
tom, introduced  by  barbarous  nations  since  the  times  of 
Christianity;  though  it  is  a  direct  and  audacious  defiance 
of  the  Christian  law,  and  is  consequently  much  more 
sinful  in  us  than  it  would  have  been  in  the  heathens." 

"  Drink  about,  doctor,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  and  let  us 
call  a  new  cause;  for  I  perceive  we  shall  never  agree  on 
this.  You  are  a  churchman,  and  I  don't  expect  you  to 
speak  your  mind." 

"  We  are  both  of  the  same  church,  I  hope,"  cries  the 
doctor. 

*'  I  am  of  the  church  of  England,  sir,"  answered  the 
colonel,  "  and  will  fight  for  it  to  the  last  drop  of  my 
blood." 

*'  It  is  very  generous  in  you,  colonel,"  cries  the  doctor, 
*'  to  fight  so  zealously  for  a  religion  by  which  you  are  to 
be  damned." 

*'  It  is  well  for  you,  doctor,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  that 
you  wear  a  gown ;  for,  by  all  the  dignity  of  a  man,  if  any 
other  person  had  said  the  words  you  have  just  uttered,  I 
would  have  made  him  eat  them,  ay,  d — n  me,  and  my 
sword  into  the  bargain." 

Booth  6egan  to  be  apprehensive  that  this  dispute  might 
grow  too  warm  ;  in  which'  case  he  feared  that  the  coio- 
nel's  honour,  together  with  the  Champagne,  might  hurry 
him  so  far  as  to  forget  the  respect  due,  and  which  he 
professed  to  pay,  to  the  sacredotal  robe.  Booth  there- 
fore interposed  between  the  disputants,  and  said  that 
the  colonel  had  very  rightly  proposed  to  call  a  new  sub- 
ject ;  for  that  it  was  impossible  to  reconcile  accepting  a 
challenge  with  the  Christian  religion,  or  refusing  it  with 
the  modern  notion  of  honour.  "  And  you  must  allow  it, 
doctor,"  said  he,  "  to  be  a  very  hard  injunction  for  a  man 
to  become  infamous ;  and  more  especially  for  a  soldier, 
who  is  to  lose  his  bread  into  the  bargain." 

•'  Ay,  sir,"  says  the  colonel,  with  an  air  of  triumph, 
"  what  say  you  to  that  V 


556  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  Why,  I  say,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  that  it  is  much  harder 
to  be  damned  on  tlie  other  side." 

"  That  may  be,"  said  the  colonel ;  "but  d— n  me,  if  I 
would  take  an  atfront  of  any  man  breathing,  for  all  that; 
and  yet  I  believe  myself  to  be  as  good  a  Christian  as 
wears  a  head.  My  maxim  is,  never  to  give  an  affront, 
nor  ever  to  take  one  ;  and  1  say,  that  is  the  maxim  of  a 
good  Christian ;  and  no  man  shall  ever  persuade  me  to 
the  contrary." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  doctor,  "  since  that  is  your  reso- 
lution, I  hope  no  man  will  ever  give  you  an  affront." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  hope,  doctor,"  cries  the 
colonel,  with  a  sneer,  *'  and  he  that  does  will  be  obliged 
to  you  for  lending  him  your  gown ;  for,  by  the  dignity 
of  a  man,  nothing  out  of  petticoats,  I  believe,  dares 
affront  me." 

Colonel  James  had  not  hitherto  joined  in  the  discourse. 
In  truth,  his  thoughts  had  been  otherwise  employed  :  nor 
is  it  very  difficult  for  the  reader  to  guess  what  had  been 
the  subject  of  them.  Being  waked,  however,  from  his 
revery,  and  having  heard  the  last  two  or  three  speeches, 
he  turned  to  his  brother,  and  asked  him  why  he  would 
introduce  such  a  topic  of  conversation  before  a  gentle- 
man of  Doctor  Harrison's  character. 

"  Brother."  cried  Bath,  "  I  own  it  was  wrong,  and  I 
ask  the  doctor's  pardon  ;  I  know  not  how  it  happened  to 
arise ;  for  you  know,  brother,  I  am  not  used  to  talk  of 
these  matters.  They  are  generally  poltrons  that  do, 
I  think  I  need  not  be  beholden  to  my  tongue  to  declare 
I  am  none.  I  have  shown  myself  in  a  line  of  battle  ;  1 
believe  there  is  no  man  will  deny  that.  I  believe  I  may 
say,  no  man  dares  deny  that  1  have  done  my  duty." 

The  colonel  was  thus  proceeding  to  prove  that  his 
prowess  was  neither  the  subject  of  his  discourse  nor  the 
object  of  his  vanity,  when  a  servant  entered,  and  sum- 
moned the  company  to  tea  with  the  ladies ;  a  summons 
which  Colonel  James  instantly  obeyed,  and  was  followed 
by  all  the  rest. 

But  as  the  tea-table  conversation,  though  extremely 
delightful  to  those  who  are  engaged  in  it,  may  probably 
appear  somewhat  dull  to  the  reader,  we  will  here  put  an 
end  to  the  chapter. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  357 


Chapter  IV. — A  dialogue  between  Booth  and  Amelia. 

The  next  morning,  early,  Booth  went  by  appointment, 
and  waited  on  Colonel  James ;  whence  he  returned  to 
Amelia  in  that  kind  of  disposition  which  the  great  mas- 
ter of  the  human  passions  would  describe  in  Andromache, 
when  he  tells  us  she  cried  and  smiled  at  the  same  instant. 

Amelia  plainly  perceived  the  discomposure  of  his 
mind,  in  which  the  opposite  affections  of  joy  and  grief 
were  struggling  for  the  superiority,  and  begged  to  know 
the  occasion:  upon  which  Booth  spoke  as  follows: — 
"  My  dear,"  said  he,  "  I  had  no  intention  to  conceal 
from  you  what  had  passed  this  morning  between  me  and 
the  colonel,  who  has  oppressed  me,  if  1  may  use  that  ex- 
pression, with  obligations.  Sure  never  man  had  such  a 
friend;  for  never  was  there  so  noble,  so  generous  a 
heart :  I  cannot  help  this  ebullition  of  gratitude,  I  really 
cannot."  Here  he  paused  a  moment,  and  wiped  his 
eyes,  and  then  proceeded  :  "  You  know,  my  dear,  how 
gloomy  th'e  prospect  was  yesterday  before  your  eyes, 
how  inevitably  ruin  stared  me  in  the  face :  and  the 
dreadful  idea  of  having  entailed  beggary  on  my  Amelia 
and  her  posterity  racked  my  mind:  for  though,  by  the 
goodness  of  the  doctor,  1  had  regained  my  liberty,  the 
debt  yet  remained ;  and  if  that  worthy  man  had  a  design 
of  forgiving  me  his  share,  this  must  have  been  my  ut- 
most hope;  and  the  condition  in  which  1  must  still  have 
found  myself  need  not  be  expatiated  on.  In  what  light, 
then,  shall  I  see,  in  what  words  shall  I  relate,  the  colo- 
nel's kindness  ^  Oh,  my  dear  Amelia  !  he  has  removed 
the  whole  gloom  at  once,  has  driven  ail  despair  out  of 
my  mind,  and  has  filled  it  with  the  most  sanguine,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  the  most  reasonable  hopes  of  making 
a  comfortable  provision  for  yourself  and  my  dear  chil- 
dren. In  the  first  place,  then,  he  will  advance  me  a  sum 
of  money  to  pay  off  all  my  debts ;  and  this  on  a  bond  to 
be  repaid  only  when  I  shall  become  colonel  of  a  regi- 
ment, and  not  before.  In  the  next  place,  he  is  gone  this 
very  morning  to  ask  a  company  for  me,  which  is  now 
vacant  in  the  West  Indies ;  and  as  he  intends  to  push 
this  with  all  his  interest,  neither  he  nor  I  have  any 
doubt  of  his  success.  Now,  my  dear,  comes  the  third, 
which,  though  perhaps  it  ought  to  give  me  the  greatest 


358  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

joy,  such  is,  I  own,  the  weakness  of  my  nature,  it  rends 
my  very  heart-strings  asunder.  I  cannot  mention  it,  for 
I  know  it  will  give  you  equal  pain,  though  I  know,  on  all 
proper  occasions,  you  can  exert  a  manly  resolution. 
You  will  not,  I  am  convinced,  oppose  it,  whatever  you 
must  suffer  in  complying.  Oh,  my  dear  Amelia  !  I  must 
suffer  likewise;  yet  I  have  resolved  to  bear  it.  You 
know  not  what  my  poor  heart  has  suffered  since  he 
made  the  proposal :  it  is  love  for  you  alone  which  could 
persuade  me  to  submit  to  it.  Consider  our  situation ; 
consider  that  of  our  children  ;  reflect  but  on  those  poor 
babes  whose  future  happiness  is  at  stake,  and  it  must 
arm  your  resolution.  It  is  your  interest  and  theirs  that 
reconciled  me  to  a  proposal,  which,  when  the  colonel 
first  made  it,  struck  me  with  the  utmost  horror  ;  he  has, 
indeed,  from  these  motives,  persuaded  me  into  a  resolu- 
tion, which  I  thought  impossible  for  any  one  to  have 
persuaded  me  into.  Oh,  my  dear  Amelia !  let  me  en- 
treat you  to  give  me  up  to  the  good  of  your  children,  as 
1  have  promised  the  colonel  to  give  you  up  to  their  in- 
terest and  your  own.  If  you  refuse  these  terms,  we  are 
still  undone;  for  he  insists  absolutely  upon  them.  Think, 
then,  my  love,  however  hard  they  may  be,  necessity 
compels  us  to  submit  to  them.  I  know  in  what  light  a 
•woman,  who  loves  like  you,  must  consider  such  a  propo- 
sal ;  and  yet,  how  many  instances  have  you  of  women 
who,  from  the  same  motives,  have  submitted  to  the 
same  !" 

"What  can  you  mean,  Mr.  Booth?"  cries  Ameha, 
trembling. 

"  Need  I  explain  my  meaning  to  you  more  1"  an- 
swered Booth.  "  Did  I  not  say  I  must  give  up  my 
Amelia?" 

"  Give  me  up  ?"  said  she. 

"  For  a  time  only,  I  mean,"  answered  he :  "  for  a 
short  time  perhaps.  The  colonel  himself  will  take  care 
it  shall  not  be  long — for  I  know  his  heart :  I  shall  scarce 
have  more  joy  in  receiving  you  back,  than  he  will  have 
in  restoring  you  to  my  arms.  In  the  mean  time,  he  will 
not  only  be  a  father  to  my  children,  but  a  husband  to 
you." 

"  A  husband  to  me  ?"  said  Amelia. 

^'Yes,  my  dear;  a  kind,  a  fond,  a  tender,  an  affec- 
tionate husband.  If  I  had  not  the  most  certain  assu- 
rances of  this,  does  my  Amelia  think  I  could  be  pre- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  359 

vailed  on  to  leave  her  1  No,  my  Amelia,  he  is  the  only 
man  on  earth  who  could  have  prevailed  on  me ;  but  I 
know  his  house,  his  purse,  his  protection,  will  be  all  at 
your  commanf^. ;  and,  as  for  any  dislike  you  have  con- 
ceived to  his  wife,  let  not  that  be  any  objection;  for  I 
am  convinced  he  will  not  suffer  her  to  insult  you :  be- 
sides, she  is  extremely  well-bred  ;  and  how  much  so- 
ever she  may  hate  you  in  her  heart,  she  will  at  least 
treat  you  with  civility.  Nay,  the  invitation  is  not  his, 
but  hers  ;  and  I  am  convinced  they  will  both  behave  to 
you  with  the  greatest  friendship :  his,  I  am  sure,  will  be 
sincere,  as  to  the  wife  of  a  friend  intrusted  to  his  care ; 
and  hers  will,  from  good  breeding,  have  not  only  the  ap- 
pearances, but  the  effects  of  the  truest  friendship." 

"  I  understand  you,  my  dear,  at  last,"  said  she,  (indeed 
she  had  rambled  into  very  strange  conceits  from  some 
parts  of  his  discourse,)  *'  and  I  will  give  you  my  resolu- 
tion in  a  word  :  I  will  do  the  duty  of  a  wife  ;  and  that  is, 
to  attend  her  husband  wherever  he  goes." 

Booth  attempted  to  reason  with  her,  but  all  to  no  pur- 
pose. She  gave,  indeed,  a  quiet  hearing  to  all  he  said, 
and  even  to  those  parts  which  most  displeased  her  ears  ; 
I  mean  those  in  which  he  exaggerated  the  great  good- 
ness and  disinterested  generosity  of  his  friend;  but  her 
resolution  remained  inflexible,  and  resisted  the  force  of 
all  his  arguments  witlva  steadiness  of  opposition  which 
it  would  have  been  almost  excusable  in  him  to  have  con- 
strued into  stubbornness. 

The  doctor  arrived  in  the  midst  of  the  dispute ;  and, 
having  heard  the  merits  of  the  cause  on  both  sides,  de- 
livered his  opinion  in  the  following  words : — 

"  I  have  always  thought  it,  my  dear  children,  a  matter 
of  the  utmost  nicety  to  interfere  in  any  differences  be- 
tween husband  and  wife  ;  but,  since  you  both  desire  me, 
with  such  earnestness,  to  give  you  my  sentiments  on 
the  present  contest  between  you,  I  will  give  you  my 
thoughts  as  well  as  I  am  able.  In  the  first  place,  then, 
can  anything  be  more  reasonable  than  for  a  wife  to  de- 
sire to  attend  her  husband  1  It  is,  as  my  favourite  child 
observes,  no  more  than  a  desire  to  do  her  duty ;  and  I 
make  no  doubt  but  that  is  one  great  reason  of  her  insist- 
ing on  it.  And  how  can  you  yourself  oppose  it?  Can 
love  be  its  own  enemy;  or  can  a  husband,  who  is  fond 
of  his  wife,  content  himself,  almost  on  any  account,  with 
a  long  absence  from  her  V 


360  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

"  You  speak  like  an  angel,  my  dear  Doctor  Harrison,'' 
answered  Amelia:  "I  am  sure,  if  he  loved  as  tenderly 
as  I  do,  he  could  on  no  account  submit  to  it." 

"  Pardon  me,  child,"  cries  the  doctor ;  "  there  are 
some  reasons,  which  would  not  only  justify  his  leaving 
you,  but  which  must  force  him,  if  he  has  any  real  love 
for  you,  joined  with  common  sense,  to  make  that  elec- 
tion. If  it  was  necessary,  for  instance,  either  to  your 
good,  or  to  the  good  of  your  children,  he  would  not  de- 
serve the  name  of  a  man,  I  am  sure  not  that  of  a  hus- 
band, if  he  hesitated  a  moment.  Nay,  in  that  case,  I  am 
convinced  you  yourself  would  be  an  advocate  for  what 
you  now  oppose.  I  fancy,  therefore,  I  mistook  him 
when  I  apprehended  he  said  that  the  colonel  made  his 
leaving  you  behind  as  the  condition  of  getting  him  the 
commission ;  for  I  know  my  dear  child  has  too  much 
goodness,  and  too  much  sense,  and  too  much  resolution, 
to  prefer  any  temporary  indulgence  of  her  own  passions 
to  the  solid  advantages  of  her  whole  family." 

♦'  There,  my  dear,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  knew  what  opin- 
ion the  doctor  would  be  of.  Nay,  I  am  certain  there  is 
not  a  wise  man  in  the  kingdom  who  would  say  other- 
wise." 

"  Don't  abuse  me,  young  gentleman,"  said  the  doctor, 
*' with  appellations  I  don't  deserve." 

*'I  abuse  you,  my  dear  doctor?"  cries  Booth. 

*'  Yes,  my  dear  sir,"  answered  the  doctor  ;  "  you  in- 
sinuated slyly  that  I  was  wise,  which,  as  the  world  un- 
derstands the  phrase,  I  should  be  ashamed  of;  and  my 
comfort  is,  that  no  one  can  accuse  me  justly  of  it :  I 
have  just  given  an  instance  of  the  contrary,  by  throwing 
away  my  advice." 

"  I  hope,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  "  that  will  not  be  the 
case." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  doctor,  "  I  know  it  will  be 
the  case  in  the  present  instance  ;  for  either  you  will  not 
go  at  all,  or  my  little  turtle  here  will  go  with  you." 

"  You  are  in  the  right,  doctor,"  cries  Amelia. 

"I  am  sorry  for  it,"  said  the  doctor;  *'for  then,  I  as- 
sure you,  you  are  in  the  wrong." 

"  Indeed,"  cries  Amelia, "  if  you  knew  all  my  reasons, 
you  would  say  they  were  very  strong  ones." 

"Very  probably,"  cries  the  doctor:  "the  knowledge 
that  they  are  in  the  wrong  is  a  very  strong  reason  to 
some  wonien  to  continue  so." 


THE    HISTORV    OF   AiMELIA.  361 

"  Nay,  doctor,"  cries  Amelia,  "  you  shall  never  per- 
suade me  of  that.  I  will  not  believe  that  any  human 
being  ever  did  an  action  merely  because  they  knew  it  to 
be  wrong." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  for  declaring  your  resolution  of  not  being  persuaded. 
Your  husband  would  never  call  me  a  wise  man  again, 
if,  after  that  declaration,  1  should  attempt  to  persuade 
you." 

"  Well,  I  must  be  content,"  cries  Amelia,  **  to  let  you 
think  as  you  please." 

"  That  is  very  gracious,  indeed  !"  said  the  doctor. 
"  Surely,  in  a  country  where  the  church  suffers  others  to 
think  as  they  please,  it  would  be  very  hard  if  they  had 
not  themselves  the  same  liberty.  And  yet,  as  unreason- 
able as  the  power  of  controlling  men's  thoughts  is  repre- 
sented, I  will  show  you  how  you  shall  control  mine 
whenever  you  desire  it." 

"  How,  pray  ?"  cries  Amelia :  "  I  should  greatly  esteem 
that  power." 

"  Why,  whenever  you  act  like  a  wise  woman,"  cries 
the  doctor,  "  you  will  force  me  to  think  you  so :  and, 
whenever  you  are  pleased  to  act  as  you  do  now,  I  shall 
be  obliged,  whether  I  will  or  no,  to  think  as  I  do  now." 

"  Nay,  dear  doctor,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  am  convinced  my 
Ameha  will  never  do  anything  to  forfeit  your  good  opin- 
ion. Consider  but  the  cruel  hardship  of  what  she  is  to 
undergo,  and  you  will  make  allowances  for  the  difficulty 
she  makes  in  complying.  To  say  the  truth,  when  I  ex- 
amine my  own  heart,  I  have  more  obligations  to  her  than 
appear  at  first  sight ;  for,  by  obliging  nie  to  find  argu- 
ments to  persuade  her,  she  has  assisted  me  in  conquer- 
ing myself.  Indeed,  if  she  had  shown  more  resolution, 
I  should  have  shown  less." 

"  So  you  think  it  necessary,  then,"  said  the  doctor, 
*'  that  there  should  be  one  fool  at  least  in  every  married 
couple.  A  mighty  resolution  truly,  and  well  worth  your 
valuing  yourself  upon !  to  part  with  your  wife  for  a  few 
months,  in  order  to  make  the  fortune  of  her  and  your 
children  ;  and  when  you  are  to  leave  her,  too,  in  the  care 
and  protection  of  a  friend,  that  gives  credit  to  the  old 
stories  of  friendship,  and  does  an  honour  to  human  na- 
ture. What,  in  the  name  of  goodness,  do  either  of  you 
think  that  you  have  made  a  union  to  endure  for  ever  I 
How  will  either  of  you  bear  that  separation  which  must 
31  Q 


362  THE   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

some  time  or  other,  and  perhaps  very  soon,  be  the  lot  of 
one  of  you  1  Have  you  forgot  that  you  are  both  mor- 
tal 1  As  for  Christianity,  I  see  you  have  resigned  all  pre- 
tensions to  it ;  for  I  make  no  doubt  but  that  you  have  so 
set  your  hearts  on  the  happiness  you  enjoy  here  to- 
gether, that  neither  of  you  ever  thinks  a  word  of  here- 
after." 

Ameha  now  burst  into  tears;  upon  which  Booth 
begged  the  doctor  to  proceed  no  further.  Indeed,  he 
would  not  have  wanted  the  caution ;  for,  however  blunt 
he  appeared  in  his  discourse,  he  had  a  tenderness  of 
heart  which  is  rarely  found  among  men,  for  which  I 
know  no  other  reason  than  that  true  goodness  is  rarely 
found  among  them  :  for  I  am  firmly  persuaded,  that  the 
latter  never  possessed  any  human  mind  in  any  degree, 
without  being  attended  by  as  large  a  portion  of  the  for- 
mer. 

Thus  ended  the  conversation  on  this  subject :  what 
followed  is  not  worth  relating,  till  the  doctor  carried  off 
Booth  with  him  to  take  a  walk  in  the  Park. 


Chapter  V. — A  conversation  between  Amelia  and  Doctor  Harrison,, 
with  the  result. 

Amelia,  being  left  alone,  began  to  consider  seriously 
of  her  condition :  she  saw  it  would  be  very  difficult  to 
resist  the  importunities  of  her  husband,  backed  by  the 
authority  of  the  doctor;  especially  as  she  well  knew 
how  unreasonable  her  declaration  must  appear  to  every 
one  who  was  ignorant  of  her  real  motives  to  persevere 
in  it.  On  the  other  hand,  she  was  fully  determined, 
whatever  might  be  the  consequence,  to  adhere  firmly 
to  her  resolution  of  not  accepting  the  colonel's  invita- 
tion. 

When  she  had  turned  the  matter  every  way  in  her 
mind,  and  vexed  and  tormented  herself  with  much  un- 
easy reflection  upon  it,  a  thought  at  last  occurred  to  her, 
which  immediately  brought  her  some  comfort ;  this  was 
to  make  a  confidant  of  the  doctor,  and  to  impart  to  him 
the  whole  truth.  This  method,  indeed,  appeared  to  her 
now  to  be  so  advisable,  that  she  wondered  she  had  not 
hit  upon  it  sooner  ;  but  it  is  the  nature  of  despair  to  blind 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  363 

US  to  all  the  moans  of  safety,  however  easy  and  apparent 
they  may  be. 

Having  fixed  her  purpose  in  her  mind,  she  wrote  a 
short  note  to  the  doctor,  in  which  she  acquainted  him 
that  she  had  something  of  great  moment  to  impart  to 
him,  which  must  be  an  entire  secret  from  her  husband, 
and  begged  that  she  might  have  an  opportunity  of  com- 
municating it  as  soon  as  possible. 

Doctor  Harrison  received  the  letter  that  afternoon, 
and  immediately  complied  with  Amelia's  request  in  vis- 
iting her.  He  found  her  drinking  tea  with  her  husband 
and  Mrs.  Atkinson,  and  sat  down  and  joined  the  com- 
pany. 

Soon  after  the  removal  of  the  tea-table,  Mrs.  Atkin- 
son left  the  room.  The  doctor  then,  turning  to  Booth, 
said,  "  I  hope,  captain,  you  have  a  true  sense  of  the  obe- 
dience due  to  the  church,  though  our  clergy  do  not  often 
exact  it.  However,  it  is  proper  to  exercise  our  power 
sometimes,  in  order  to  remind  the  laity  of  their  duty  :  I 
must  tell  you,  therefore,  that  I  have  some  private  busi- 
ness with  your  wife ;  and  I  expect  your  innnediate  ab- 
sence." 

*'  Upon  my  word,  doctor,"  answered  Booth,  "no 
popish  confessor,  I  firmly  believe,  ever  pronounced  his 
will  and  pleasure  with  more  gravity  and  dignity  :  none, 
therefore,  was  ever  more  immediately  obeyed  than  you 
shall  be."  Booth  then  quitted  the  room,  and  desired  the 
doctor  to  recall  him  when  his  business  with  the  lady  was 
over. 

Doctor  Harrison  promised  he  would ;  and  then,  turn- 
ing to  Amelia,  he  said,  "  Thus  far,  madam,  I  have  obeyed 
your  commands ;  and  am  now  ready  to  receive  the  im- 
portant secret  which  you  mention  in  your  not€." 

Amelia  now  informed  her  friend  of  all  she  knew,  all 
she  had  seen  and  heard,  and  all  that  she  suspected  of  the 
colonel.  The  good  man  seemed  greatly  shocked  at  the 
relation,  and  remained  in  a  silent  astonishment.  Upon 
which  Amelia  said,  "  Is  villany  so  rare  a  thing,  sir,  that 
it  should  so  much  surprise  you?"  "  No,  child,"  cries 
he,  "  but  I  am  shocked  at  seeing  it  so  artfully  disguised 
under  the  appearance  of  so  much  virtue;  and,  to  confess 
the  truth,  I  believe  my  own  vanity  is  a  little  hurt,  in 
having  been  so  grossly  imposed  upon.  Indeed,  I  had  a 
very  high  regard  for  this  man ;  for,  besides  the  great 
character  given  him  by  your  husband,  and  the  many 
Q2 


364  THE    HISTORY  OF  AMELIA. 

facts  I  have  heard  so  much  redoundhig  to  his  honour 
he  has  the  fairest  and  most  promising  appearance  I  have 
ever  yet  beheld.  A  good  face,  they  say,  is  a  letter  of 
recommendation.  Oh,  Nature,  Nature,  why  art  thou  so 
dishonest,  as  ever  to  send  men  with  these  false  recom- 
mendations into  the  world  ?" 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  sir,  I  begin  to  grow  entirely  sick 
of  it,"  cries  Amelia ;  "  for  sure  all  mankind,  almost,  are 
villains  in  their  hearts." 

"  Fy,  child,"  cries  the  doctor :  "  do  not  make  a  con- 
clusion so  much  to  the  dishonour  of  the  great  Creator. 
The  nature  of  man  is  far  from  being  in  itself  evil;  it 
abounds  with  benevolence,  charity,  and  pity,  coveting 
praise  and  honour,  and  shunning  shame  and  disgrace. 
Bad  education,  bad  habits,  and  bad  customs,  debauch 
our  nature,  and  drive  it  headlong,  as  it  were,  into  vice. 
The  governors  of  the  world,  and  I  am  afraid  the  priest- 
hood, are  answerable  for  the  badness  of  it :  instead  of 
discouraging  wickedness  to  the  utmost  of  their  power, 
both  are  too  apt  to  connive  at  it.  In  the  great  sin  of 
adultery,  for  instance,  has  the  government  provided  any 
law  to  punish  it  1  or  does  the  priest  take  any  care  to 
correct  it?  on  the  contrary,  is  the  most  notorious  prac- 
tice of  it  any  detriment  to  a  man's  fortune,  or  to  his 
reputation  in  the  world  1  does  it  exclude  him  from  any 
preferment  in  the  state,  I  had  almost  said,  in  the  church  ? 
is  it  any  blot  in  his  escutcheon,  any  bar  to  his  honour  ? 
is  he  not  to  be  found  every  day  in  the  assemblies  of 
women  of  the  highest  quality,  in  the  closets  of  the 
greatest  men,  and  even  at  the  tables  of  bishops  ]  What 
wonder,  then,  if  the  community  in  general  treat  this 
monstrous  crime  as  matter  of  jest,  and  that  men  give 
way  to  the  temptations  of  a  violent  appetite,  when  the 
indulgence  of  it  is  protected  by  law  and  countenaaced 
by  custom  1  I  am  convinced  there  are  good  stamina  in 
the  nature  of  this  very  man ;  for  he  has  done  acts  of 
friendship  and  generosity  to  your  husband,  before  he 
could  have  any  evil  design  on  your  chastity ;  and  in  a 
Christian  society,  which  1  no  more  esteem  this  nation 
to  be  than  I  do  any  part  of  Turkey,  1  doubt  not  but  this 
very  colonel  would  have  made  a  worthy  and  valuable 
member." 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  sir,"  cries  Amelia,  "  you  are  the 
wisest  as  well  as  best  man  in  the  world." 

"Not  a  word  of  my  wisdom,"  cries  the  doctor:  "T 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  365 

have  not  a  grain :  I  am  not  the  least  versed  in  the  chre- 
matistic*  art,  as  an  old  friend  of  mine  calls  it.  I  know- 
not  how  to  get  a  shilling,  nor  how  to  keep  it  in  my 
pocket  if  I  had  it." 

*'  But  you  understand  human  nature  to  the  bottom," 
answered  Amelia ;  "  and  your  mind  is  the  treasury  of 
all  ancient  and  modern  learning." 

"You  are  a  little  flatterer,"  cries  the  doctor;  "but  I 
dislike  you  not  for  it ;  and,  to  show  you  1  don't,  I  will 
return  your  flattery,  and  tell  you  you  have  acted  with 
great  prudence  in  concealing  this  affair  from  your  hus- 
band ;  but  you  have  drawn  me  into  a  scrape ;  for  I  have 
promised  to  dine  with  this  fellow  again  to-morrow,  and 
you  have  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  keep  my  word." 

"  Nay,  but,  dear  sir,"  cries  Ameha,  "  for  Heaven's 
sake  take  care.  If  you  show  any  kind  of  disrespect  to 
the  colonel,  my  husband  may  be  led  into  some  suspicion, 
especially  after  our  conference." 

"  Fear  nothing,  child  :  I  will  give  him  no  hint ;  and 
that  I  may  be  certain  of  not  doing  it,  I  will  stay  away. 
You  do  not  think,  I  hope,  that  I  will  join  in  a  cheerful 
conversation  with  such  a  man  ;  that  I  will  so  far  betray 
my  character  as  to  give  any  countenance  to  such  flagi- 
tious proceedings.  Besides,  my  promise  was  only  con- 
ditional; and  I  do  not  know  whether  1  could  otherwise 
have  kept  it,  for  I  expect  an  old  friend  every  day  who 
comes  to  town  tv*'enty  miles  on  foot  to  see  me,  whom  I 
shall  not  part  with  on  any  account ;  for  as  he  is  very 
poor,  he  may  imagine  I  treat  him  with  disrespect." 

"  Well,  sir,"  cries  Amelia,  "  I  must  admire  you,  and 
love  you  for  your  goodness." 

"  Must  you  love  me  ]"  cries  the  doctor :  "  I  could 
cure  you  now  in  a  minute  if  I  pleased." 

"  Indeed,  I  defy  you,  sir,"  said  Amelia. 

*'  If  I  could  but  persuade  you,"  answered  he,  "  that  I 
thought  you  not  handsome,  away  would  vanish  all  ideas 
of  goodness  in  an  instant.  Confess  honestly,  would 
they  not  V 

"  Perhaps  I  might  blame  the  goodness  of  your  eyes," 
replied  Amelia  ;  "  and  that  is  perhaps  an  honester  con- 
fession than  you  expected.  But  do  pray,  sir,  be  seri- 
ous ;  and  give  me  your  advice  what  to  do.  Consider 
the  difficult  game  I  have  to  play ;  for  1  am  sure,  after 

*  The  art  of  getting  wealth  is  so  called  by  Aristotle  in  his  politics. 
31* 


366  THE  HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

what  I  have  told  you,  you  would  not  even  suffer  me  to 
remain  under  the  roof  of  this  colonel." 

"  No,  indeed  would  1  not,"  said  the  doctor,  "  while  I 
have  a  house  of  my  own  to  entertain  you." 

"  But  how  to  dissuade  my  husband,"  continued  she, 
"  without  giving  him  any  suspicion  of  the  real  cause, 
the  consequences  of  his  guessing  at  which  I  tremble  to 
think  upon  T" 

"  I  will  consult  my  pillow  upon  it,"  said  the  doctor ; 
*'  and  in  the  morning  you  shall  see  me  again.  In  the 
mean  time,  be  comforted,  and  compose  the  perturbations 
of  your  mind." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  she,  "  I  put  my  whole  trust  in  you." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,"  cries  the  doctor.  "  Your 
innocence  may  give  you  a  very  confident  trust  in  a  much 
more  powerful  assistance.  However,  1  will  do  all  I  can 
to  serve  you :  and  now,  if  you  please,  we  will  call  back 
your  husband  ;  for,  upon  my  word,  he  has  shown  a  good 
Catholic  patience.  And  where  is  the  honest  sergeant 
and  his  wife  1  I  am  pleased  with  the  behaviour  of  you 
both  to  that  worthy  fellow,  in  opposition  to  the  custom 
of  the  world ;  which,  instead  of  being  formed  on  the 
precepts  of  our  religion  to  consider  each  other  as  breth- 
ren, teaches  us  to  regard  those  who  are  a  degree  below 
us  either  in  rank  or  fortune,  as  a  species  of  beings  of  an 
inferior  order  in  the  creation." 

The  captain  now  returned  into  the  room,  as  did  the 
sergeant  and  Mrs.  Atkinson;  and  the  two  couple,  with 
the  doctor,  spent  the  evening  together  in  great  mirth 
and  festivity ;  for  the  doctor  was  one  of  the  best  com- 
panions in  the  world,  and  a  vein  of  cheerfulness,  good- 
humour,  and  pleasantry  ran  through  his  conversation, 
with  which  it  was  impossible  to  resist  being  pleased. 


Chapter  VI. — Containing  as  surprising  an  accident  as  is  perhaps  re- 
corded in  history. 

Booth  had  acquainted  the  sergeant  with  the  great 
goodness  of  Colonel  James,  and  with  the  cheerful  pros- 
pects which  he  entertained  from  it :  this  Atkinson  be- 
hind the  curtain  communicated  to  his  wife.  The  con- 
clusions which  she  drew  from  it  need  scarce  be  hinted 
to  the  reader :  she  made,  indeed,  no  scruple  of  plainly 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  367 

and  bluntly  telling  her  husband,  that  the  colonel  had  a 
most  manifest  intention  to  attack  the  chastity  of  Ame- 
lia. 

This  thought  gave  the  poor  sergeant  great  uneasiness, 
and,  after  having  kept  him  long  awake,  tormented  him 
in  his  sleep  with  a  most  horrid  dream,  in  which  he  im- 
agined that  he  saw  the  colonel  standing  by  the  bedside 
of  Amelia,  with  a  naked  sword  in  his  hand,  and  threat- 
ening to  stab  her  instantly,  unless  she  complied  with  his 
desires.  Upon  this  the  sergeant  started  up  in  his  bed, 
and,  catching  his  wife  by  the  throat,  cried  out,  "  D — n 
you,  put  up  your  sword  this  instant,  and  leave  the  room, 
or  by  Heaven  I'll  drive  mine  to  your  heart's  blood." 

This  rough  treatment  immediately  roused  Mrs.  Atkin- 
son from  her  sleep,  who  no  sooner  perceived  the  posi- 
tion of  her  husband,  and  felt  his  hand  grasping  her  throat, 
than  she  gave  a  violent  shriek,  and  presently  fell  into  a 
fit. 

Atkinson  now  waked  likewise,  and  soon  became  sen- 
sible of  the  violent  agitations  of  his  wife.  He  imme- 
diately leaped  out  of  bed,  and  running  for  a  bottle  of 
water,  began  to  sprinkle  her  very  plentifully,  but  all  to 
no  purpose :  she  neither  spoke,  nor  gave  any  symptoms 
of  recovery.  Atkinson  then  began  to  roar  aloud ;  upon 
which  Booth,  who  lay  under  him,  jumped  from  his  bed, 
and  ran  up  with  the  lighted  candle  in  his  hand.  The 
sergeant  had  no  sooner  taken  the  candle,  than  he  ran 
with  it  to  the  bedside.  Here  he  beheld  a  sight  which 
almost  deprived  him  of  his  senses.  The  bed  appeared 
to  be  all  over  blood,  and  his  wife  weltering  in  the  midst 
of  it.  Upon  this,  the  sergeant,  almost  in  a  phrensy,  cried 
out,  "  Oh  Heavens !  1  have  killed  my  wife.  I  have 
stabbed  her!  I  have  stabbed  her!"  "  What  can  be  the 
meaning  of  all  this  V  said  Booth,  "  Oh,  sir  !"  cries  the 
sergeant,  "  I  dreamed  I  was  rescuing  your  lady  from  the 
hands  of  Colonel  James,  and  I  have  killed  my  poor 
wife."  Here  he  threw  himself  upon  the  bed  by  her, 
caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  behaved  like  one  frantic 
with  despair. 

By  this  time  Amelia  had  thrown  on  a  wrapping-gown, 
and  was  come  up  into  the  room  where  the  sergeant  and 
his  wife  were  lying  on  the  bed,  and  Booth  standing  like 
a  motionless  statue  by  the  bedside.  Ameha  had  some 
difficulty  to  conquer  the  eflfects  of  her  own  surprise  on 


368  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

this  occasion ;  for  a  more  ghastly  and  horrible  sight  than 
the  bed  presented  could  not  be  conceived. 

Amelia  sent  Booth  to  call  up  the  maid  of  the  house, 
in  order  to  lend  her  assistance ;  but,  before  his  return, 
Mrs,  Atkinson  began  to  come  to  herself;  and  soon  after, 
to  the  inexpressible  joy  of  the  sergeant,  it  was  discov- 
ered she  had  no  wound.  Indeed,  the  delicate  nose  of 
Amelia  soon  made  that  discovery,  which  the  grosser 
smell  of  the  sergeant,  and  perhaps  his  fright,  had  pre- 
vented him  from  making:  for  now  it  appeared  that  the 
red  liquor  with  which  the  bed  was  stained,  though  it  may 
perhaps  sometimes  run  through  the  veins  of  a  fine  lady, 
was  not  what  is  properly  called  blood ;  but  was,  indeed, 
no  other  than  cherry-brandy,  a  bottle  of  which  Mrs.  At- 
kinson always  kept  in  her  room  to  be  ready  for  imme- 
diate use  ;  and  to  which  she  used  to  apply  for  comfort 
in  all  her  afflictions.  This  the  poor  sergeant,  in  his  ex- 
treme hurry,  had  mistaken  for  a  bottle  of  water.  Mat- 
ters were  now  soon  accommodated,  and  no  other  mis- 
chief appeared  to  be  done,  unless  to  the  bed-clothes. 
Amelia  and  Booth  returned  back  to  their  room ;  and 
Mrs.  Atkinson  rose  from  her  bed,  in  order  to  equip  it 
with  a  pair  of  clean  sheets. 

And  thus  this  adventure  would  have  ended  without 
producing  any  kind  of  consequence,  had  not  the  words 
which  the  sergeant  uttered  in  his  phrensy  made  some 
slight  impression  on  Booth  ;  so  much,  at  least,  as  to 
awaken  his  curiosity  ;  so  that,  in  the  morning,  when  he 
arose,  he  sent  for  the  sergeant,  and  desired  to  hear  the 
particulars  of  this  dream,  since  Amelia  was  concerned 
in  it. 

The  sergeant  at  first  seemed  unwilling  to  comply,  and 
endeavoured  to  make  excuses.  This,  perhaps,  increased 
Booth's  curiosity,  and  he  said,  "  Nay,  I  am  resolved  to 
hear  it.  Why,  you  simpleton,  do  you  imagine  me  weak 
enough  to  be  affected  by  a  dream,  however  terrible  it 
may  be  ?" 

"  Nay,  sir,"  cries  the  sergeant,  "  as  for  that  matter, 
dreams  have  sometimes  fallen  out  to  be  true.  One  of 
my  own,  I  know,  did  so,  concerning  your  honour ;  for 
when  you  courted  my  young  lady,  1  dreamed  you  was 
married  to  her;  and  yet  it  was  at  a  time  when  neither 
I  myself,  nor  any  of  the  country,  thought  you  would 
ever  obtain  her.  But,  Heaven  forbid  this  dream  should 
ever  come  to  pass." 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  369 

"  Why,  what  was  this  dream  1"  cries  Booth.  *'  I  in- 
sist on  knowing/' 

"  To  be  sure,  sir,"  cries  the  sergeant,  "  I  must  not  re- 
fuse you;  but  I  hope  you  will  never  think  any  more 
of  it.  Why  then,  sir,  I  dreamed  that  your  honour  was 
gone  to  the  West  Indies,  and  had  left  my  lady  in  the 
care  of  Colonel  James ;  and  last  night  I  dreamed  the 
colonel  came  to  my  lady's  bed-side,  offering  to  ravish 
her,  and,  with  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  threatening 
to  stab  her  that  moment  unless  she  would  comply  with 
his  desires.  How  I  came  to  be  by,  I  know  not ;  but  I 
dreamed  I  rushed  upon  him,  caught  him  by  the  throat, 
and  swore  I  would  put  him  to  death  unless  he  instant- 
ly left  the  room.  Here  I  awoke,  and  this  was  my 
dream.  I  never  paid  any  regard  to  a  dream  in  my  life  ; 
but,  indeed,  I  never  dreamed  anything  so  very  plain 
as  this:  it  appeared  downright  reality.  I  am  sure  I 
have  left  the  marks  of  my  fingers  in  my  wife's  throat. 
I  would  not  have  taken  a  hundred  pound  to  have  used 
her  so." 

"  Faith,"  cries  Booth,  "  it  was  an  odd  dream,  and  not 
so  easily  to  be  accounted  for,  as  that  you  had  formerly 
of  my  marriage ;  for,  as  Shakspeare  says,  '  Dreams  de- 
note a  foregone  conclusion.'  Now  it  is  impossible  you 
should  ever  have  thought  of  any  such  matter  as  this." 

"  However,  sir,"  cries  the  sergeant,  "  it  is  in  your  hon- 
our's power  to  prevent  any  possibility  of  this  dream's 
coming  to  pass,  by  not  leaving  my  lady  to  the  care  of 
the  colonel :  if  you  must  go  from  her,  certainly  there 
are  other  places  where  she  may  be  with  great  safety ; 
and,  since  my  wife  tells  me  that  my  lady  is  so  very  un- 
willing, whatever  reasons  she  may  have,  I  hope  your 
honour  will  oblige  her." 

"Now  I  recollect  it,"  cries  Booth,  "Mrs.  Atkinson 
has  once  or  twice  dropped  some  disrespectful  words 
of  the  colonel.  He  has  done  something  to  disoblige 
her." 

"  He  has  indeed,  sir,"  replied  the  sergeant :  "  he  has 
said  that  of  her  which  she  does  not  deserve,  and  for 
which,  if  he  had  not  been  my  superior  officer,  I  would 
have  cut  both  his  ears  off.  Nay,  for  that  matter,  he  can 
speak  ill  of  other  people  besides  her." 

"Do  you  know,  Atkinson,"  cries  Booth,  very  grave- 
ly, "  that  you  are  talking  of  the  dearest  friend  I  have  ?" 

"  To  be  honest  then,"  answered  the  sergeant,  "  I  do 
Q3 


370  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

not  think  so.  If  I  did,  1  should  love  him  much  better 
than  I  do." 

*'  I  must  and  will  have  this  explained,"  cries  Booth  : 
"  I  have  too  good  an  opinion  of  you,  Atkinson,  to  think 
you  would  drop  such  things  as  you  have  without  some 
reason,  and  I  will  know  it." 

*'  I  am  sorry  I  have  dropped  a  word,"  cries  Atkinson  : 
"  I  am  sure  I  did  not  intend  it ;  and  your  honour  has 
drawn  it  from  me  unawares." 

"Indeed,  Atkinson,"  cries  Booth,  "you  have  made 
me  very  uneasy,  and  I  must  be  satisfied." 

"  Then,  sir,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  you  shall  give  me 
your  word  of  honour;  or  I  will  be  cut  into  ten  thousand 
pieces  before  I  will  mention  another  syllable." 

"  What  shall  1  promise  ?"  said  Booth. 

*'  That  you  will  not  resent  anything  I  shall  lay  to  the 
colonel,"  answered  Atkinson. 

"  Resent !    Well,  I  give  you  my  honour,"  said  Booth. 

The  sergeant  made  him  bind  himself  over  and  over 
again:  and  then  related  to  him  the  scene  which  for- 
merly passed  between  the  colonel  and  himself,  as  far  as 
concerned  Booth  himself;  but  concealed  all  that  more 
immediately  related  to  Amelia. 

"Atkinson,"  cries  Booth,  "I  cannot  be  angry  with 
you;  for  I  know  you  love  me,  and  I  have  many  obliga- 
tions to  you ;  but  you  have  done  wrong  in  censuring  the 
colonel  for  what  he  said  of  me.  1  deserve  all  that  he 
said  ;  and  his  censures  proceeded  from  his  friendship." 

"  But  it  was  not  so  kind,  sir,"  said  Atkinson,  "  to  say 
such  things  to  me,  who  am  but  a  sergeant,  and  at  such 
a  time  too." 

*'  I  will  hear  no  more,"  cries  Booth.  "  Be  assured, 
you  are  the  only  man  I  would  forgive  on  this  occasion; 
and  I  forgive  you  only  on  condition  you  never  speak  a 
word  more  of  this  nature.  This  silly  dream  has  intoxi- 
cated you." 

"  I  have  done,  sir,"  cries  the  sergeant :  "  I  know  my 
distance,  and  whom  I  am  to  obey ;  but  I  have  one  fa- 
vour to  beg  of  your  honour  :  never  to  mention  a  word  of 
what  I  have  said  to  my  lady ;  for  I  know  she  never 
would  forgive  me;  I  know  she  never  would,  by  what 
my  wife  has  told  me.  Besides,  you  need  not  mention 
it,  sir, to  my  lady;  for  she  knows  it  already,  and  a  great 
deal  more." 

Booth  presently  parted  from  the  sergeant,  having  de- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  371 

sired  him  to  close  his  hps  on  this  occasion ;  and  repaired 
to  his  wife,  to  whom  he  related  the  sergeant's  dream. 

Amelia  turned  as  white  as  snow,  and  fell  into  so  vio- 
lent a  trembling,  that  Booth  plainly  perceived  her  emo- 
tion, and  immediately  partook  of  it  himself.  "  Sure,  my 
dear,"  said  he,  staring  wildly,  "  there  is  more  in  this 
than  1  know.  A  silly  dream  could  not  so  discompose 
you;  I  beg  you,  I  entreat  you  to  tell  me :  has  ever  Col- 
onel James — " 

At  the  very  mention  of  the  colonel's  name  Amelia  fell 
on  her  knees,  and  begged  her  husband  not  to  frighten 
her. 

"  What  do  I  say,  my  dear  love,"  cried  Booth,  "  that 
can  frighten  you  ?" 

"  Nothing,  my  dear,"  said  she :  "  but  my  spirits  are 
so  discomposed  with  the  dreadful  scene  I  saw  last  night, 
that  a  dream,  which  at  another  time  I  should  have 
laughed  at,  has  shocked  me.  Do  but  promise  me  that 
you  will  not  leave  me  behind  you,  and  I  am  easy." 

"You  may  be  so,"  cries  Booth;  "for  I  will  never 
deny  you  anything.  But  make  me  easy  too.  I  must 
know  if  you  have  seen  anything  in  Colonel  James  to 
displease  you." 

"  Why  should  you  suspect  it  ]"  cries  Amelia. 

"  You  torment  me  to  death,"  cries  Booth.  "  By 
heavens,  I  will  know  the  truth.  Has  he  ever  said  or 
done  anything  which  you  dislike  V 

"  How,  my  dear,"  said  Amelia,  "  can  you  imagine  I 
should  dislike  a  man  who  is  so  much  your  friend  ? 
Think  of  all  the  obligations  you  have  to  him,  and  then 
you  may  easily  resolve  yourself.  Do  you  think,  be- 
cause I  refuse  to  stay  behind  you  in  his  house,  that  I 
have  any  objection  to  him  1  No,  my  dear,  had  he  done 
a  thousand  times  more  than  he  has,  was  he  an  angel  in- 
stead of  a  man,  I  would  not  quit  my  Billy.  There's  the 
sore,  my  dear;  there's  the  misery — to  be  left  by  you." 

Booth  embraced  her  with  the  most  passionate  rap- 
tures, and  looking  on  her  with  inexpressible  tenderness, 
cried,  "  Upon  my  soul,  I  am  not  worthy  of  you  :  I  am  a 
fool,  and  yet  you  cannot  blame  me.  If  the  stupid  miser 
hoards  with  such  care  his  worthless  treasure  ;  if  he 
watches  it  with  such  anxiety ;  if  every  apprehension  of 
another's  sharing  the  least  part  fills  his  soul  with  such 
agonies ;  oh,  Amelia !  what  must  be  my  condition,  what 


372  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

terrors  must  I  feel,  while  I  am  watching  over  a  jewel  of 
such  real,  such  inestimable  worth  1" 

"  I  can,  with  great  truth,  return  the  compliment,"  cries 
Amelia.  "  I  have  my  treasure  too  ;  and  am  so  much  of 
a  miser,  that  no  force  shall  ever  tear  me  from  it." 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  my  folly,"  cries  Booth  ;  "  and  yet 
it  is  all  from  extreme  tenderness ;  nay,  you  yourself  are 
the  occasion.  Why  will  you  ever  attempt  to  keep  a 
secret  from  me  1  Do  you  think  I  should  have  resented 
to  my  friend  his  just  censure  of  my  conduct  1" 

"  What  censure,  my  dear  love?"  cries  Amelia. 

"  Nay,  the  sergeant  has  told  me  all,"  cries  Booth ; 
"  nay,  and  that  he  has  told  it  to  you.  Poor  soul !  thou 
couldst  not  endure  to  hear  me  accused,  though  never  so 
justly,  and  by  so  good  a  friend.  Indeed,  my  dear,  I 
have  discovered  the  cause  of  that  resentment  to  the 
colonel,  which  you  could  not  hide  from  me.  I  love  you, 
I  adore  you  for  it ;  indeed,  I  could  not  forgive  a  slighting 
word  on  you.  But  why  do  I  compare  things  so  unlike  1 
What  the  colonel  said  of  me  was  just  and  true;  every 
reflection  on  my  Amelia  must  be  false  and  villanous." 

The  discernment  of  Amelia  was  extremely  quick  ;  and 
she  now  perceived  what  had  happened,  and  how  much 
her  husband  knew  of  the  truth.  She  resolved;  therefore, 
to  humour  him,  and  fell  severely  on  Colonel  James  for 
what  he  had  said  to  the  sergeant,  which  Booth  endeav- 
oured all  he  could  to  soften ;  and  thus  ended  this  affair, 
which  had  brought  Booth  to  the  very  brink  of  a  discov- 
ery, which  must  have  given  him  the  highest  torment,  if 
it  had  not  produced  any  of  those  tragical  effects  which 
Amelia  apprehended. 


Chapter  VII.— In  which  the  author  appears  to  be  master  of  that 
profound  learning  called  the  knowledge  of  the  town. 

Mrs.  James  now  came  to  pay  a  morning's  visit  to 
Amelia.  She  entered  the  room  with  her  usual  gayety, 
and,  after  a  slight  preface,  addressing  herself  to  Booth, 
said  she  had  been  quarrelling  with  her  husband  on  his 
account.  "  I  know  not,"  said  she,  "  what  he  means  by 
thinking  of  sending  you  the  Lord  knows  whither.  I 
have  insisted  on  his  asking  something  for  you  nearer 
home :  and  it  would  be  the  hardest  thing  in  the  world 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  373 

if  he  should  not  obtain  it.  Are  we  resolved  never  to 
encourage  merit,  but  to  throw  away  all  our  preferments 
on  those  who  do  not  deserve  them  1  What  a  set  of  con- 
temptible wretches  do  we  see  strutting  about  the  town 
in  scarlet !" 

Booth  made  a  very  low  bow,  and  modestly  spoke  in 
disparagement  of  himself.  To  which  she  answered, 
"Indeed,  Mr.  Booth,  you  have  merit:  I  have  heard  it 
from  my  brother,  who  is  a  judge  of  those  matters,  and  I 
am  sure  cannot  be  suspected  of  flattery.  He  is  your 
friend  as  well  as  myself;  and  we  will  never  let  Mr. 
James  rest  till  he  has  got  you  a  commission  in  England." 

Booth  bowed  again,  and  was  offering  to  speak,  but  she 
interrupted  him,  saying,  "  I  will  have  no  thanks,  nor  no 
fine  speeches :  if  I  can  do  you  any  service,  I  shall  think 
I  am  only  paying  the  debt  of  friendship  to  my  dear  Mrs. 
Bootli." 

Amelia,  who  had  long  since  forgotten  the  dislike  she 
had  taken  to  Mrs.  James  at  her  first  seeing  her  in  town, 
had  attributed  it  to  the  right  cause,  and  had  begun  to 
resume  her  former  friendship  for  her,  expressed  very 
warm  sentiments  of  gratitude  on  this  occasion.  She 
told  Mrs.  James  she  should  be  eternally  obliged  to  her 
if  she  could  succeed  in  her  kind  endeavours ;  for  that 
the  thoughts  of  parting  again  with  her  husband  had  given 
her  the  utmost  concern.  "  Indeed,"  added  she,  "  I  can- 
not help  saying,  he  has  some  merit  in  the  service :  for 
he  has  received  two  dreadful  wounds  in  it,  one  of  which 
very  greatly  endangered  his  life  ;  and  I  am  convinced  if 
his  pretensions  were  backed  with  any  interest  he  would 
not  fail  of  success." 

"  They  shall  be  backed  with  interest,"  cries  Mrs.  James, 
"  if  my  husband  has  any.  He  has  no  favour  to  ask  for 
himself,  nor  for  any  other  friend  that  I  know  of;  and, 
indeed,  to  grant  a  man  his  just  due  ought  hardly  to  be 
thought  a  favour.  Resume  your  old  gayety,  therefore, 
my  dear  Emily.  Lord,  I  remember  the  time  when  you 
was  much  the  gayer  creature  of  the  two;  but  you  make 
an  arrant  mope  of  yourself,  by  confining  yourself  at 
home.  One  never  meets  you  anywhere.  Come,  you 
shall  go  with  me  to  the  Lady  Betty  Castleton's." 

"  Indeed,  you  must  excuse  me,  my  dear,"  answered 
Amelia :  "  I  do  not  know  Lady  Betty." 

"  Not  know  Lady  Betty !  how  is  that  possible  1  But 
no  matter,  I  will  introduce  you.  She  keeps  a  morning 
32 


374  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

rout :  hardly  a  rout,  indeed  ;  a  little  bit  of  a  drum — only 
four  or  five  tables.  Come,  take  your  capuchin  :  you  pos- 
itively shall  go.  Booth,  you  shall  go  with  us  too  :  though 
you  are  with  your  wife,  another  woman  will  keep  you 
in  countenance." 

"  La,  child,"  cries  Amelia,  "how  you  rattle !" 

"  1  am  in  spirits,"  answered  Mrs.  James,  "  this  morn- 
ing, for  I  won  four  rubbers  together  last  night ;  and  betted 
the  things,  and  won  almost  every  bet.  1  am  in  luck,  and 
we  will  contrive  to  be  partners.     Come." 

"Nay,  child,  you  shall  not  refuse  Mrs.  James,"  said 
Booth. 

''  I  have  scarce  seen  my  children  to-day,"  answered 
Amelia :  "  besides,  I  mortally  detest  cards." 

"  Detest  cards  ?"  cries  Mrs.  James:  "how  can  you  be 
so  stupid  1  I  would  not  live  a  day  without  them  :  nay, 
indeed,  I  do  not  believe  I  should  be  able  to  exist.  Is 
there  so  dehghtful  a  sight  in  the  world  as  the  four  hon- 
ours in  one's  own  hand,  unless  it  be  three  natural  aces 
at  brag  1     And  you  really  hate  cards  V 

"  Upon  reflection,"  cries  Ameha,  "  I  have  sometimes 
had  great  pleasure  in  them  ;  in  seeing  my  children  build 
houses  with  them.  My  little  boy  is  so  dexterous,  that 
he  will  sometimes  build  up  the  whole  pack." 

"  Indeed,  Booth,"  cries  Mrs.  James,  "  this  good  woman 
of  yours  is  strangely  altered  since  I  knew  her  first ;  but 
she  will  always  be  a  good  creature." 

"Upon  my  word,  my  dear,"  cries  Amelia,  "you  are 
altered  too  very  greatly ;  but  I  doubt  not  to  live  to  see 
you  alter  again,  when  you  come  to  have  as  many  chil- 
dren as  I  have." 

"Children  I"  cries  Mrs.  James,  "you  make  me  shud- 
der. How  can  you  envy  me  the  only  circumstance 
which  makes  matrimony  comfortable  ]" 

"  Indeed,  my  dear,"  said  Amelia,  "  you  injure  me  ;  for 
I  envy  no  woman's  happiness  in  marriage."  At  these 
words,  such  looks  passed  between  Booth  and  his  wife, 
as,  to  a  sensible  bystander,  would  have  made  all  the 
airs  of  Mrs.  James  appear  in  the  highest  degree  con- 
temptible, and  would  have  rendered  herself  the  object 
of  compassion :  nor  could  that  lady  avoid  looking  a  little 
silly  on  the  occasion. 

Amelia  now,  at  the  earnest  desire  of  her  husband,  ac- 
coutred herself  to  attend  her  friend ;  but  first  she  insisted 
on  visiting  her  children,  to  whom  she  gave  several  hearty 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  375 

kisses ;  and  then  recommending  them  to  the  care  of 
Mrs.  Atkinson,  she  and  her  husband  accompanied  Mrs. 
James  to  the  rout,  where  few  of  my  fine  readers  will  be 
displeased  to  make  part  of  the  company. 

The  two  ladies  and  Booth  then  entered  an  apartment 
beset  with  card-tables,  like  the  rooms  at  Bath  and  Tun- 
bridge.  Mrs.  James  immediately  introduced  her  friends 
to  Lady  Betty,  who  received  them  very  civilly,  and  pres- 
ently engaged  Booth  and  Mrs.  James  in  a  party  at  whist ; 
for,  as  to  Amelia,  she  so  much  declined  playing,  that,  as 
the  party  could  be  filled  without  her,  she  was  permitted 
to  sit  by. 

And  now,  who  should  make  his  appearance  but  the 
noble  peer,  of  whom  so  much  honourable  mention  has 
already  been  made  in  this  history.  He  walked  directly 
up  to  Amelia,  and  addressed  her  with  as  perfect  a  confi- 
dence as  if  he  had  not  been  in  the  least  conscious  of 
having  in  any  manner  displeased  her  ;  though  the  reader 
will  hardly  suppose  that  Mrs.  Ellison  had  kept  anything 
a  secret  from  him. 

Amelia  was  not,  however,  so  forgetful.  She  made  him 
a  very  distant  courtesy,  would  scarce  vouchsafe  to  an- 
swer anything  he  said,  and  took  the  first  opportunity  of 
shifting  her  chair,  and  retiring  from  him. 

Her  behaviour,  indeed,  was  such,  that  the  peer  plainly 
perceived  that  he  should  get  no  advantage  by  pursuing 
her  any  further  at  present.  Instead,  therefore,  of  at- 
tempting to  follow  her,  he  turned  on  his  heel,  and  ad- 
dressed his  discourse  to  another  lady  ;  though  he  could 
not  avoid  often  casting  his  eyes  towards  Amelia,  as  long 
as  she  remained  in  the  room. 

Fortune,  which  seems  generally  to  have  been  no  great 
friend  to  Mr.  Booth,  gave  him  no  extraordinary  marks 
of  her  favour  at  play.  He  lost  two  full  rubbers,  which 
cost  five  guineas  ;  after  which,  Amelia,  who  was  uneasy 
at  his  lordship's  presence,  begged  him  in  a  whisper  to 
return  home,  with  which  request  he  directly  complied. 

Nothing,  I  think,  remarkable  happened  to  Booth,  un- 
less the  renewal  of  his  acquaintance  with  an  officer 
whom  he  had  known  abroad,  and  who  made  one  of  his 
party  at  the  whist-table. 

The  name  of  this  gentleman,  with  whom  the  reader 
will  hereafter  be  better  acquainted,  was  Trent.  He  had 
formerly  been  in  the  same  regiment  with  Booth,  and 
there  was  some  intimacy  between  them.    Captain  Trent 


376  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

expressed  great  delight  in  meeting  his  brother  officer, 
and  both  mutually  promised  to  visit  each  other. 

The  scenes  which  had  passed  the  preceding  night  and 
that  morning  had  so  confused  Amelia's  thoughts,  that  in 
the  hurry  in  which  she  was  carried  off  by  Mrs.  James, 
she  had  entirely  forgotten  her  appointment  with  Dr. 
Harrison.  When  she  was  informed,  at  her  return  home, 
that  the  doctor  had  been  to  wait  upon  her,  and  had  ex- 
pressed some  anger  at  her  being  gone  out,  she  became 
greatly  uneasy,  and  begged  her  husband  to  go  to  the 
doctor's  lodgings,  and  make  her  apology. 

But,  lest  the  reader  should  be  as  angry  with  the  doc- 
tor as  he  had  declared  himself  with  Amelia,  we  think 
proper  to  explain  the  matter.  Nothing  then  was  further 
from  the  doctor's  mind  than  the  conception  of  any  anger 
towards  Amelia.  On  the  contrary,  when  the  girl  an- 
swered him  that  her  mistress  was  not  at  home,  the  doc- 
tor said,  with  great  good  humour,  "  How  !  not  at  home  ? 
then  tell  your  mistress  she  is  a  giddy  vagabond,  and  I 
will  come  to  see  her  no  more  till  she  sends  for  me." 
This  the  poor  girl,  from  misunderstanding  one  word, 
and  half  forgetting  the  rest,  had  construed  into  great 
passion,  several  very  bad  words,  and  a  declaration  that 
he  would  never  see  Amelia  any  more. 


Chaptee  VIII. — In  which  two  strangers  make  their  appearance. 

Booth  went  to  the  doctor's  lodgings,  and  found  him  en- 
gaged with  his  country  friend  and  his  son,  a  young  gen- 
tleman who  was  lately  in  orders ;  both  whom  the  doctor 
had  left  to  keep  his  appointment  with  Amelia. 

After  what  we  mentioned  at  the  end  of  the  last  chap- 
ter, we  need  take  little  notice  of  the  apology  made  by 
Booth,  or  the  doctor's  reception  of  it,  which  was  in  his 
peculiar  manner.  "  Your  wife,"  said  he,  "  is  a  vain 
hussy  to  think  herself  worth  my  anger;  but  tell  her,  I 
have  the  vanity  myself  to  think  I  cannot  be  angry  with- 
out a  better  cause.  And  yet,  tell  her  I  intend  to  punish 
her  for  her  levity ;  for  if  you  go  abroad,  I  have  deter- 
mined to  take  her  down  with  me  into  the  country,  and 
make  her  do  penance  there  till  you  return." 

"  Dear  sir,"  said  Booth,  "  I  know  not  how  to  thank 
you,  if  you  are  in  earnest." 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  377 

"  I  assure  you,  then,  I  am  in  earnest,"  cries  the  doctor ; 
"  but  you  need  not  thank  me,  however,  since  you  know 
not  how." 

"  But  would  not  that,  sir,"  said  Booth,  "  be  showing  a 
slight  to  the  colonel's  invitation!  and  you  know  1  have 
so  many  obligations  to  him." 

"  Don't  tell  me  of  the  colonel,"  cries  the  doctor  ;  "  the 
church  is  to  be  first  served.  Besides,  sir,  1  have  a  pri- 
ority of  right,  even  to  you  yourself.  You  stole  my  httle 
lamb  from  me ;  for  I  was  her  first  love." 

"  Well,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  "  if  I  should  be  so  unhappy 
to  leave  her  to  any  one,  she  must  herself  determine; 
and  I  believe  it  vvil'l  not  be  difficult  to  guess  where  her 
choice  will  fall ;  for  of  all  men,  next  to  her  husband,  I 
believe  none  can  contend  with  Dr.  Harrison  in  her  fa- 
vour." 

"  Since  you  say  so,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  fetch  her 
hither  to  dine  with  us ;  for  I  am  at  least  so  good  a 
Christian  to  love  those  that  love  me.  I  will  show  you 
my  daughter,  my  old  friend,  for  I  am  really  proud  of 
her ;  and  you  may  bring  my  grandchildren  with  you  if 
you  please." 

Booth  made  some  compliments,  and  then  went  on  his 
errand.  As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  the  old  gentleman 
said  to  the  doctor,  "  Pray,  my  good  friend,  what  daugh- 
ter is  this  of  yours  1  I  never  so  much  as  heard  that  you 
was  married." 

"And  what  then  1"  cries  the  doctor:  "did  you  ever 
hear  that  a  pope  was  married  1  and  yet  some  of  them 
have  had  sons  and  daughters,  I  believe  :  but,  however, 
this  young  gentleman  will  absolve  me  without  obliging 
me  to  penance." 

"  1  have  not  yet  that  power,"  answered  the  young 
clergyman  ;  "  for  I  am  only  in  deacon's  orders." 

"  Are  you  not  V  cries  the  doctor  ;  "  why,  then  I  will 
absolve  myself.  You  are  to  know,  then,  my  good  friend, 
that  this  young  lady  was  the  daughter  of  a  neighbour  of 
mine,  who  is  since  dead,  and  whose  sins  I  hope  are  for- 
given ;  for  she  had  too  much  to  answer  for  on  her  child's 
account.  Her  father  was  my  intimate  acquaintance  and 
friend  ;  a  worthier  man  indeed,  I  believe,  never  lived. 
He  died  suddenly  when  his  children  were  infants  ;  and, 
perhaps,  to  the  suddenness  of  his  death  it  was  owing  that 
he  did  not  recommend  any  care  of  them  to  me.  How- 
ever, I,  in  some  measure,  took  that  charge  upon  me ;  and 
32* 


378  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

particularly  of  her  whom  I  call  my  daughter.  Indeed, 
as  she  grew  up,  she  discovered  so  many  good  qualities, 
that  she  wanted  not  the  remembrance  of  her  father's 
merit  to  recommend  her.  I  do  her  no  more  than  justice, 
when  T  say  she  is  one  of  the  best  creatures  I  ever  knew. 
She  has  a  sweetness  of  temper,  a  generosity  of  spirit, 
an  openness  of  heart ;  in  a  word,  she  has  a  true  Christian 
disposition.  I  may  call  her  an  Israelite,  indeed,  in  whom 
there  is  no  guile." 

"  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  daughter,"  cries  the  old  gen- 
tleman ;  "  for,  to  a  man  of  your  disposition,  to  find  out 
an  adequate  object  of  your  benevolence  is,  I  acknowl- 
edge, to  find  a  treasure." 

"  It  is,  indeed,  a  happiness,"  cries  the  doctor. 

*'  The  greatest  difficulty,"  added  the  gentleman, 
"  which  persons  of  your  turn  of  mind  meet  with,  is  in 
finding  proper  objects  of  their  goodness;  for  nothing 
sure  can  be  more  irksome  to  a  generous  mind,  than  to 
discover  that  it  has  thrown  away  all  its  good  offices  on 
a  soil  that  bears  no  other  fruit  than  ingratitude." 

"  I  remember,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  Phocylides  saith, 

M^  KaKov  j5   ep^Jis'  andptiv  icrov  iar'  ivl  tovti^.* 

But  he  speaks  more  like  a  philosopher  than  a  Christian. 
I  am  more  pleased  with  a  French  writer,  one  of  the  best, 
indeed,  that  I  ever  read,  who  blames  men  for  lamenting 
the  ill  return  which  is  so  often  made  to  the  best  offices.f 
A  true  Christian  can  never  be  disappointed,  if  he  does 
not  receive  his  reward  in  this  world  ;  the  labourer  might 
as  well  complain  that  he  is  not  paid  his  hire  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  day." 

"  I  own,  indeed,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  if  we  see  it  in 
that  light—" 

"  And  in  what  light  should  we  see  it  V  answered  the 
doctor.  "  Are  we  like  Agrippa,  only  almost  Chris- 
tians 1  or  is  Christianity  a  matter  of  bare  theory,  and 
not  a  rule  for  our  practice  1" 

" Practical, undoubtedly;  undoubtedly,  practical,"  cries 
the  gentleman.  "  Your  example  might  indeed  have  con- 
vinced me  long  ago  that  we  ought  to  do  good  to  every 
one." 

*  To  do  a  kindness  to  a  bad  man,  is  like  sowing  your  seed  in  the 
sea. 
t  D'Esprit. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  379 

"  Pardon  me,  father,"  cries  the  young  divine ;  "  that  is 
rather  a  heathenish  than  a  Christian  doctrine.  Homer, 
I  remember,  introduces  in  his  Iliad  one  Axylus,  of 
whom  he  says, 

(piXos  5'  tjv  avOpdiroiai' 
Havrai  yip  (piyitcKCv .* 

But  Plato,  who,  of  the  heathens,  came  nearest  to  the 
Christian  philosophy,  condemned  this  as  impious  doc- 
trine ;  so  Eustathius  tells  us,  foHo  474." 

"  I  know  he  does,"  cries  the  doctor,  "and  so  Barnes 
tells  us  in  his  note  upon  the  place  ;  but  if  you  remem- 
ber the  rest  of  the  quotation  as  well  as  you  do  that 
from  Eustathius,  you  might  have  added  the  observation 
which  Mr.  Dryden  makes  in  favour  of  this  passage,  that 
he  found  not,  in  all  the  Latin  authors,  so  admirable  an 
instance  of  extensive  humanity.  You  might  have  hke- 
wise  remembered  the  noble  sentiment  with  which  Mr. 
Barnes  ends  his  note,  the  sense  of  which  is  taken  from 
the  fifth  chapter  of  Matthew  : — 

OS  KOI  (pdos  he^ioio 
Mi'y^'  ayadolai  kuko'kj'i  t^  £it'  avSpdaiv  i^avariWei. 

It  seems,  therefore,  as  if  this  character  rather  became  a 
Christian  than  a  heathen :  for  Homer  could  not  have 
transcribed  it  from  any  of  his  deities.  Whom  is  it, 
therefore,  we  imitate  by  such  extensive  benevolence  ]" 

"  What  a  prodigious  memory  you  have !"  cries  the 
old  gentleman  :  '*  indeed,  son,  you  must  not  contend  with 
the  doctor  in  these  matters." 

"  I  shall  not  give  my  opinion  hastily,"  cries  the  son  : 
"  I  know  again  what  Mr.  Poole,  in  his  Annotations,  says 
on  that  verse  of  St.  Matthew :  that  it  is  only  to  heap 
coals  of  fire  upon  their  heads.  How  are  we  to  under- 
stand, pray,  the  text  immediately  preceding?  Love 
your  enemies,  bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to 
them  that  hate  you." 

"  You  know,  I  suppose,  young  gentleman,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  how  these  words  are  generally  understood. 
The  commentator  you  mention,  I  think,  tells  us,  that 
love  is  not  here  to  be  taken  in  the  strict  sense,  so  as  to 
signify  the  complacency  of  the  heart :  you  may  hate 
your  enemies  as  God's  enemies,  and  seek  due  revenge 

*  He  was  a  friend  to  mankind  ;  for  he  loved  them  all. 


380  THE    HISTORY   OP    AMELIA. 

of  them  for  his  honour;  and  for  your  own  sakes,  too, 
you  may  seek  moderate  satisfaction  of  them  ;  but  then 
you  are  to  love  them  with  a  love  consistent  with  these 
things  :  that  is  to  say,  in  plainer  words,  you  are  to  love 
them  and  hate  them,  and  bless  and  curse,  and  do  them 
good  and  mischief." 

"  Excellent  !  admirable  !"  said  the  old  gentleman : 
*'  you  have  a  most  inimitable  turn  to  ridicule." 

"  I  do  not  approve  ridicule,"  said  the  son,  "  on  such 
subjects." 

"  Nor  I  neither,"  cries  the  doctor :  "  I  will  give  you 
my  opinion,  therefore,  very  seriously.  The  two  verses 
taken  together  contain  a  very  positive  precept,  delivered 
in  the  plainest  words,  and  yet  illustrated  by  the  clearest 
instance,  in  the  conduct  of  the  Supreme  Being ;  and, 
lastly,  the  practice  of  this  precept  is  most  nobly  en- 
forced by  the  reward  annexed — That  ye  may  be  the 
children,  and  so  forth.  No  man,  who  understands  what 
it  is  to  love,  and  to  bless,  and  to  do  good,  can  mistake 
the  meaning.  But  if  they  required  any  comment,  the 
Scripture  itself  affords  enough  : — If  thine  enemy  hunger, 
feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink ;  not  rendering 
evil  for  evil,  or  railing  for  railing,  but  contrariwise 
blessing.  They  do  not,  indeed,  want  the  comments 
of  men,  who,  when  they  cannot  bend  their  minds  to  the 
obedience  of  Scripture,  are  desirous  to  wrest  Scripture 
to  a  compliance  with  their  own  inclinations." 

"  Most  nobly  and  justly  observed,"  cries  the  old  gen- 
tleman:  "indeed,  my  good  friend,  you  have  explained 
the  text  with  the  utmost  perspicuity." 

"  But  if  this  be  the  meaning,"  cries  the  son,  "  there 
must  be  an  end  of  all  law  and  justice ;  for  I  do  not 
see  how  any  man  can  prosecute  his  enemy  in  a  court 
of  justice." 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  cries  the  doctor.  "  Indeed,  as  an 
enemy  merely,  and  from  a  spirit  of  revenge,  he  cannot, 
and  he  ought  not  to  prosecute  him  ;  but  as  an  offender 
against  the  laws  of  his  country,  he  may,  and  it  is  his 
duty  so  to  do.  Is  there  any  spirit  of  revenge  in  the 
magistrates  or  officers  of  justice,  when  they  punish 
criminals  1  Why  do  such,  ordinarily  I  mean,  concern 
themselves  in  inflicting  punishments,  but  because  it  is 
their  duty]  and  why  may  not  a  private  man  deliver  an 
offender  into  the  hands  of  justice  from  the  same  lauda- 
ble motive  1    Revenge,  indeed,  of  all  kinds  is  strictly 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  381 

prohibited ;  wherefore,  as  we  are  not  to  execute  it  with 
our  own  hands,  so  neither  are  we  to  make  use  of  the 
law  as  the  instrument  of  private  malice,  and  to  worry 
each  other  with  inveteracy  and  rancour.  And  where  is 
the  great  difficulty  in  obeying  this  wise,  this  generous, 
this  noble  precept  1  If  revenge  be,  as  a  certain  divine, 
not  greatly  to  his  honour,  calls  it,  the  most  luscious 
morsel  the  devil  ever  dropped  into  the  mouth  of  a  sin- 
ner, it  must  be  allowed  at  least  to  cost  us  often  ex- 
tremely dear:  it  is  a  dainty,  if  indeed  it  be  one,  which 
we  come  at  with  great  inquietude,  with  great  difficulty, 
and  with  great  danger.  However  pleasant  it  may  be  to 
the  palate  while  we  are  feeding  on  it,  it  is  sure  to  leave 
a  bitter  rehsh  behind  it ;  and  so  far,  indeed,  it  may  be 
called  a  luscious  morsel,  that  the  most  greedy  appetites 
are  soon  glutted,  and  the  most  eager  longing  for  it  is 
soon  turned  into  loathing  and  repentance.  I  allow  there 
is  something  tempting  in  its  outward  appearance ;  but 
it  is  like  the  beautiful  colour  of  some  poisons,  from 
which,  however  they  may  attract  our  eyes,  a  regard  to 
our  own  welfare  commands  us  to  abstain.  And  this  is 
an  abstinence  to  which  wisdom  alone,  without  any  di- 
vine command,  has  been  often  found  adequate  ;  with  in- 
stances of  which,  the  Greek  and  Latin  authors  every- 
where abound.  May  not  a  Christian,  therefore,  be 
well  ashamed  of  making  a  stumbling-block  of  a  pre- 
cept, which  is  not  only  consistent  with  his  worldly 
interest,  but  to  which  so  noble  an  incentive  is  sup- 
posed V 

The  old  gentleman  fell  into  raptures  at  this  speech : 
and  after  making  many  compliments  to  the  doctor  upon 
it,  he  turned  to  his  son,  and  told  him  he  had  an  opportu- 
nity now  of  learning  more  in  one  day  than  he  had 
learned  at  the  university  in  a  twelvemonth. 

The  son  replied,  that  he  allowed  the  doctrine  to  be 
extremely  good  in  general,  and  that  he  agreed  with  the 
greater  part;  "but  I  must  make  a  distinction,"  said  he. 
However,  he  was  interrupted  from  his  distinction  at 
present ;  for  now  Booth  returned  with  Amelia  and  the 
children. 


382  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 


Chapter  IX.— A  scene  of  modem  wit  and  humour. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  old  gentleman  proposed  a  walk 
to  Vaiixhall ;  a  place  of  which,  he  said,  he  had  heard 
much,  but  had  never  seen  it. 

The  doctor  readily  agreed  to  his  friend's  proposal, 
and  soon  after  ordered  two  coaches  to  be  sent  for  to 
carry  the  whole  company :  but  when  the  servant  was 
gone  for  them,  Booth  acquainted  the  doctor  that  it  was 
yet  too  early.  "  Is  it  so  "?"  said  the  doctor ;  "  why  then 
I  will  carry  you  first  to  one  of  the  greatest  and  highest 
entertainments  in  the  world." 

The  children  pricked  up  their  ears  at  this,  nor  did 
any  of  the  company  guess  what  he  meant;  and  Ameha 
asked  what  entertainment  he  could  carry  them  to  at 
that  time  of  day. 

"  Suppose,"  says  the  doctor,  "  I  should  carry  you  to 
court  V 

"  At  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  V  cries  Booth. 

"  Ay,  suppose  I  should  have  interest  enough  to  intro- 
duce you  into  the  presence  ?" 

"  You  are  jesting,  dear  sir,"  cries  Amelia. 

"  Indeed,  I  am  serious,"  answered  the  doctor.  "  I 
will  introduce  you  into  that  presence,  compared  to 
whom  the  greatest  emperor  on  the  earth  is  many 
millions  of  degrees  meaner  than  the  most  contemptible 
reptile  is  to  him.  What  entertainment  can  there  be 
to  a  rational  being  equal  to  this  1  Were  not  the  taste  of 
mankind  most  wretchedly  depraved,  where  would  the 
vain  man  find  an  honour,  or  where  would  the  love  of 
pleasure  propose  so  adequate  an  object  as  divine  wor- 
ship ?  With  what  ecstasy  must  the  contemplation  of 
being  admitted  to  such  a  presence  fill  the  mind  !  The 
pitiful  courts  of  princes  are  open  to  few,  and  to  those 
only  at  particular  seasons;  but  from  this  glorious  and 
gracious  presence,  we  are  none  of  us,  and  at  no  time, 
excluded." 

The  doctor  was  proceeding  thus,  when  the  servant 
returned,  saying  the  coaches  were  ready;  and  the 
whole  company  with  the  greatest  alacrity  attended  the 
doctor  to  St.  James's  church. 

When  the  service  was  ended,  and  they  were  again 
got  into   their  coaches,  Amelia  returned  the  doctor 


THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA.  383 

many  thanks  for  the  light  in  which  he  had  placed  divine 
worship;  assuring  him  that  she  had  never  before  had 
so  much  transport  in  her  devotion  as  at  this  time,  and 
saying  she  believed  she  should  be  the  better  for  this 
notion  he  had  given  her  as  long  as  she  lived. 

The  coaches  being  come  to  the  water  side,  they  all 
alighted,  and,  getting  into  one  boat,  proceeded  to  Vaux- 
hall. 

The  extreme  beauty  and  elegance  of  this  place  is 
well  known  to  almost  every  one  of  ray  readers :  and 
happy  is  it  for  me  that  it  is  so ;  since  to  give  an  adequate 
idea  of  it  would  exceed  my  power  of  description.  To 
delineate  the  particular  beauties  of  these  gardens  would, 
indeed,  require  as  much  pains,  and  as  much  paper  too, 
as  to  rehearse  all  the  good  actions  of  their  master; 
whose  life  proves  the  truth  of  an  observation  which  1 
have  read  in  some  ethic  writer,  that  a  truly  elegant  taste 
is  generally  accompanied  with  an  excellence  of  heart ; 
or,  in  other  words,  that  true  virtue  is,  indeed,  nothing 
else  but  true  taste. 

Here  our  company  diverted  themselves  with  walking 
an  hour  or  two  before  the  music  began.  Of  all  the 
seven,  Booth  alone  had  ever  been  here  before  ;  so  that, 
to  all  the  rest,  the  place,  with  its  other  charms,  had  that 
of  novelty.  When  the  music  played,  Amelia,  who  stood 
next  the  doctor,  said  to  him  in  a  whisper,  "  I  hope  I  am 
not  guilty  of  profaneness  ;  but,  in  pursuance  of  that 
cheerful  train  of  thoughts  with  which  you  have  inspired 
me  this  afternoon,  I  was  just  now  lost  in  a  revery,  and 
fancied  myself  in  those  blissful  mansions  which  we 
hope  to  enjoy  hereafter.  The  delicious  sweetness  of 
the  place,  the  enchanting  charms  of  the  music,  and  the 
satisfaction  which  appears  in  every  one's  countenance, 
carried  my  soul  almost  to  heaven  in  its  ideas.  I  could 
not  have,  indeed,  imagined  there  had  been  anything  like 
this  in  the  world." 

The  doctor  smiled,  and  said,  "  You  see,  dear  madam, 
there  may  be  pleasures,  of  which  you  could  conceive 
no  idea  till  you  actually  enjoyed  them." 

And  now  the  little  boy,  who  had  long  withstood  the 
attractions  of  several  cheesecakes  that  passed  to  and 
fro,  could  contain  no  longer;  but  asked  his  mother 
to  give  him  one,  saying,  "  1  am  sure  my  sister  would  be 
glad  of  another,  though  she  is  ashamed  to  ask."  The 
doctor,  overhearing  the  child,  proposed  that  they  should 


^84  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

all  retire  to  some  place,  where  they  might  sit  down  and 
refresh  themselves  ;  which  they  accordingly  did.  Ame- 
lia now  missed  her  husband;  but,  as  she  had  three  men 
in  her  company,  and  one  of  them  was  the  doctor,  she 
concluded  herself  and  her  children  to  be  safe,  and 
doubted  not  but  that  Booth  would  soon  find  her  out. 

They  now  sat  down,  and  the  doctor  very  gallantly 
desired  Amelia  to  call  for  what  she  liked.  Upon  which 
the  children  were  supplied  with  cakes  ;  and  some  ham 
and  chicken  were  provided  for  the  rest  of  the  company, 
with  which,  while  they  were  regaling  themselves  with 
the  highest  satisfaction,  two  young  fellows  walking  arm 
in  arm  came  up ;  and  when  they  came  opposite  to  Ame- 
lia, they  stood  still,  staring  Amelia  full  in  the  face  ;  and 
one  of  them  cried  aloud  to  the  other,  "  D — n  me,  my 
lord,  if  she  is  not  an  angel !"  My  lord  stood  still,  sta- 
ring likewise  at  her,  without  speaking  a  word  ;  when 
two  others  of  the  same  gang  came  up,  and  one  of  them 
cried,  "  Come  along,  Jack,  I  have  seen  her  before ;  but 
she  is  too  w^ell  manned  already.  Three  are  enough  for 
one  woman,  or  the  devil  is  in  it." 

"  D — n  me,"  says  he  that  spoke  first,  and  v/hom  they 
called  Jack,  "  I  will  have  a  brush  at  her,  if  she  belonged 
to  the  whole  convocation."  And  so  saying,  he  went  up 
to  the  young  clergyman,  and  cried — "Doctor,  sit  up  a 
little,  if  you  please  ;  and  don't  take  up  more  room  in  a 
bed  than  belongs  to  you."  At  which  words  he  gave  the 
young  man  a  push,  and  seated  himself  down  directly 
over  against  Amelia  ;  and  leaning  both  his  elbows  on  the 
table,  he  fixed  his  eyes  on  her  in  a  manner  with  which 
modesty  can  neither  look,  nor  bear  to  be  looked  at. 

Amelia  seemed  greatly  shocked  at  this  treatment ; 
upon  which  the  doctor  removed  her  within  him,  and  then 
facing  the  gentleman,  asked  him  what  he  meant  by  this 
rude  behaviour.  Upon  which  my  lord  stepped  up  and 
said,  "  Don't  be  impertinent,  old  gentleman.  Do  you 
think  such  fellows  as  you  are  to  keep,  d — n  me,  such 
fine  wenches,  d — n  me,  to  yourselves,  d — n  me  1" 

"  No,  no,"  cries  Jack,  '*  the  old  gentleman  is  more 
reasonable.  Here's  the  fellow  that  eats  up  the  tithe-pig. 
Don't  you  see  how  his  mouth  waters  at  her?  Where's 
your  slabbering  bib?"  for  though  the  gentleman  had 
rightly  guessed  he  was  a  clergyman,  yet  he  had  not  any 
of  those  insignia  on,  with  which  it  would  have  been  im- 
proper to  have  appeared  there. 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  383 

"Such  boys  as  you,"  cries  the  young  clergyman, 
"  ought  to  be  well  whipped  at  school,  instead  of  being 
suffered  to  become  nuisances  in  society." 

"  Boys,  sir]"  says  Jack  :  *'  I  believe  I  am  as  good  a 

man  as  yourself,  Mr. ,  and  as  good  a  scholar  too. 

Bos  fur  sus  quotque  sacerdos.  Tell  me  what's  next. 
D — n  me,  I'll  hold  you  fifty  pounds  you  don't  tell  me 
what's  next." 

"You  have  him.  Jack,"  cries  my  lord:  "it  is  over 
with  him,  d — n  me  :  he  can't  strike  another  blow." 

"  If  I  had  you  in  a  proper  place,"  cries  the  clergyman, 
"you  should  find  I  would  strike  a  blow,  and  a  pretty 
hard  one  too." 

"There,"  cries  my  lord,  "there  is  the  meekness  of 
the  clergyman.  There'  spoke  the  wolf  in  sheep's  cloth- 
ing. D — n  me,  how  big  he  looks  !  You  must  be  civil 
to  him,  faith!  or  else  he  will  burst  with  pride." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  cries  Jack,  "  let  the  clergy  alone  for  pride: 
there's  not  a  lord  in  the  kingdom  now  has  half  the  pride 
of  that  fellow." 

"Pray,  sir,"  cries  the  doctor,  turning  to  the  other, 
"  are  you  a  lord  V 

"  Yes,  Mr. ,"  cries  he,  "  I  have  that  honour,  in- 
deed." 

"  And  I  suppose  you  have  pride  too,"  said  the  doctor. 

"I  hope  I  have, sir,"  answered  he,  "  at  your  service." 

"If  such  a  one  as  you,  sir,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  who 
are  not  only  a  scandal  to  the  title  you  bear  as  a  lord, 
but  even  as  a  man,  can  pretend  to  pride,  why  will  you 
not  allow  it  to  a  clergyman?  I  suppose,  sir,  by  your 
dress,  you  are  in  the  army  ;  and,  by  the  riband  in  your 
hat,  you  seem  to  be  proud  of  that  too.  How  much 
greater  and  more  honourable  is  the  service  in  which 
that  gentleman  is  enlisted  than  yours  !  Why  then  should 
you  object  to  the  pride  of  the  clergy,  since  the  lowest 
of  the  function  is  in  reality  every  way  so  much  your 
superior  V 

"  Tida,  tidu,  tidum,"  cries  my  lord. 

"  However,  gentlemen,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  if  you  have 
the  least  pretension  to  that  name,  I  beg  you  will  put  an 
end  to  your  frolic  ;  since  you  see  it  gives  so  much  un- 
easiness to  the  lady.  Nay,  I  entreat  you  for  your  own 
sakes  ;  for  here  is  one  coming,  who  will  talk  to  you  in 
a  very  different  style  from  ours." 
33  R 


386  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  One  coming  V  cries  my  lord;  "  what  care  I  who  is 
coming?" 

"  I  suppose  it  is  the  devil,"  cries-  Jack  ;  "  for  here  are 
two  of  his  livery  servants  already." 

"  Let  the  devil  come  as  soon  as  he  will,"  cries  my 
lord,  "  d — n  me  if  I  have  not  a  kiss." 

Amelia  now  fell  a  trembling ;  and  her  children,  per- 
ceiving her  fright,  both  hung  on  her,  and  began  to  cry ; 
when  Booth  and  Captain  Trent  both  came  up. 

Booth,  seeing  his  wife  disordered,  asked  eagerly 
what  was  the  matter.  At  the  same  time,  the  lord  and 
his  companion,  seeing  Captain  Trent,  whom  they  well 
knew,  said  both  together,  "  What,  does  this  company 
belong  to  you?"  when  the  doctor,  with  great  presence 
of  mind,  as  he  was  apprehensive  of  some  fatal  conse- 
quence if  Booth  should  know  what  had  passed,  said, 
''  So,  Mr.  Booth,  I  am  glad  you  are  returned;  your  poor 
lady  here  began  to  be  frightened  out  of  her  wits :  but 
now  you  have  him  again,"  said  he  to  Amelia,  "  I  hope 
you  will  be  easy." 

Amelia,  frightened  as  she  was,  presently  took  the  hint, 
and  greatly  chid  her  husband  for  leaving  her:  but  the 
little  boy  was  not  so  quick-sighted,  and  cried,  "  Indeed, 
papa,  those  naughty  men  there  have  frightened  my 
mamma  out  of  her  wits." 

"How!"  cries  Booth,  a  little  moved;  "frightened? 
Has  any  one  frightened  you,  my  dear  V 

"  No,  my  love,"  answered  she,  "  nothing.  I  know 
not  what  the  child  means.  Everything  is  well,  now  I 
see  you  safe." 

Trent  had  been  all  the  while  talking  aside  with  the 
young  sparks ;  and  now,  addressing  himself  to  Booth, 
said,  "  Here  has  been  some  little  mistake ;  I  believe 
my  lord  mistook  Mrs.  Booth  for  some  other  lady." 

"  It  is  impossible,"  cries  my  lord,  "  to  know  every 
one.  I  am  sure,  if  I  had  known  the  lady  to  be  a  woman 
of  fashion,  and  an  acquaintance  of  Captain  Trent,  I 
should  have  said  nothing  disagreeable  to  her;  but,  if  I 
have,  I  ask  her  pardon,  and  the  company's." 

'•  I  am  in  the  dark,"  cries  Booth.  "  Pray,  what  is  all 
this  matter?" 

"Nothing  of  any  consequence,"  cries  the  doctor, 
"nor  worth  your  inquiring  into.  You  hear  it  was  a 
mistake  of  the  person ;  and  I  really  believe  his  lordship, 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  387 

that  all  proceeded  from  his  not  knowing  to  whom  the 
lady  belonged." 

"  Come,  come,"  says  Trent,  "  there  is  nothing  in  the 
matter,  I  assure  you.  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  an- 
other time." 

"  Very  well ;  since  you  say  so,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  am 
contented."  So  ended  the  affair,  and  the  two  sparks 
made  their  congee,  and  sneaked  off. 

"  Now  they  are  gone,"  said  the  young  gentleman,  "  I 
must  say,  I  never  saw  two  worse-bred  jackanapes,  nor 
fellows  who  deserved  to  be  kicked  more.  If  I  had  had 
them  in  another  place,  I  would  have  taught  them  a  lit- 
tle more'respect  to  the  church." 

"  You  took  rather  a  better  way,'  answered  the  doctor, 
"  to  teach  them  that  respect." 

Booth  now  desired  his  friend  Trent  to  sit  down  with 
them,  and  proposed  to  call  for  a  fresh  bottle  of  wine; 
but  Amelia's  spirits  were  too  much  disconcerted  to  give 
her  any  prospect  of  pleasure  that  evening.  She  there- 
fore laid  hold  of  the  pretence  of  her  children,  for  whom 
she  said  the  hour  was  already  too  late ;  with  which  the 
doctor  agreed.  So  they  paid  their  reckoning  and  de- 
parted; leaving  to  the  two  rakes  the  triumph  of  having 
totally  dissipated  the  mirth  of  this  little  innocent  com- 
pany, who  were  before  enjoying  complete  satisfaction. 


Chapter  X. — A  curious  conversation  between  the  doctor,  the  young 
clergyman,  and  the  young  clergyman's  father. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  doctor  and  his  two  friends 
were  at  breakfast,  the  young  clergyman,  in  whose  mind 
the  injurious  treatment  he  had  received  the  evening  be- 
fore was  very  deeply  impressed,  renewed  the  conversa- 
tion on  that  subject. 

"  It  is  a  scandal,"  said  he,  "  to  the  government,  that 
they  do  not  preserve  more  respect  to  the  clergy,  by  pun- 
ishing all  rudeness  to  them  with  the  utmost  severity. 
It  was  very  justly  observed  of  you,  sir,"  said  he  to  the 
doctor,  "  that  the  lywest  clergyman  in  England  is  in 
real  dignity  superior  to  the  highest  nobleman.  What 
then  can  be  so  shocking,  as  to  see  that  gown,  which 
ought  to  entitle  us  to  the  veneration  of  all  we  meet, 
treated  with  contempt  and  ridicule '?  Are  we  not,  in 
fact,  ambassadors  from  heaven  to  the  world  1  and  do 
R2 


388  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

they  not,  therefore,  in  denying  us  our  due  respect,  deny 
it  in  reality  to  him  that  sent  us  V 

"If  that  be  the  case,"  says  the  doctor,  " it  behooves 
them  to  look  to  themselves  ;  for  he  who  sent  us  is  able 
to  exact  most  severe  vengeance  for  the  ill  treatment  of 
his  ministers." 

"  Very  true,  sir,"  cries  the  young  one  ;  "  and  I  heart- 
ily hope  he  will ;  but  those  punishments  are  at  too  great 
a  distance  to  infuse  terror  into  wicked  minds.  The 
government  ought  to  interfere  with  its  immediate  cen- 
sures. Fines  and  imprisonments,  and  corporeal  punish- 
ments, operate  more  forcibly  on  the  human  mind  than 
all  the  fears  of  damnation." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ]"  cries  the  doctor :  "  then  I  am 
afraid  men  are  very  little  in  earnest  in  those  fears." 

"  Most  justly  observed,"  says  the  old  gentleman.  "  In- 
deed, I  am  afraid  that  is  too  much  the  case." 

"  In  that,"  said  the  son,  "  the  government  is  to  blame. 
Are  not  books  of  infidelity,  treating  our  holy  religion  as 
a  mere  imposture,  nay,  sometimes  as  a  mere  jest,  pub- 
lished daily  and  spread  abroad  among  the  people  with 
perfect  impunity !" 

"  You  are  certainly  in  the  right,"  says  the  doctor : 
"  there  is  a  most  blameable  remissness  with  regard  to 
these  matters  :  but  the  whole  blame  does  not  lay  there: 
some  little  share  of  the  fault  is,  I  am  afraid,  to  be  im- 
puted to  the  clergy  themselves." 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  cries  the  young  one,  "  I  did  not  expect 
that  charge  from  a  gentleman  of  your  cloth.  Do  the 
clergy  give  any  encouragement  to  such  books  1  Do  they 
not,  on  the  contrary,  cry  loudly  out  against  the  suffering 
them  1  This  is  the  invidious  aspersion  of  the  laity ; 
and  I  did  not  expect  to  hear  it  confirmed  by  one  of  our 
own  cloth." 

"  Be  not  too  impatient,  young  gentleman,"  said  the 
doctor.  "  I  do  not  absolutely  confirm  the  charge  of  the 
laity ;  it  is  much  too  general  and  too  severe ;  but  even 
the  laity  themselves  do  not  attack  them  in  that  part  to 
which  you  have  applied  your  defence.  They  are  not 
supposed  such  fools  as  to  attack  that  religion  to  which 
they  owe  thier  temporal  welfare.  They  are  not  taxed 
with  giving  any  other  support  to  infidelity,  than  what  it 
draws  from  the  ill  example  of  their  lives ;  I  mean  of  the 
lives  of  some  of  them.  Here  too  the  laity  carry  their 
censures  too  far ;  for  there  are  very  few  or  none  of  the 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  389 

clergy,  whose  lives,  if  compared  with  those  of  the  laity, 
can  be  called  profligate ;  but  such,  indeed,  is  the  perfect 
purity  of  our  religion,  such  is  the  innocence  and  virtue 
which  it  exacts,  to  entitle  us  to  its  glorious  rewards, 
and  to  screen  us  from  its  dreadful  punishments,  that  he 
must  be  a  very  good  man  indeed  who  lives  up  to  it. 
Thus  then  these  persons  argue.  This  man  is  educated 
in  a  perfect  knowledge  of  religion,  is  learned  in  its  laws, 
and  is  by  his  profession  obliged,  in  a  manner,  to  have 
them  always  before  his  eyes.  The  rewards  which  it 
promises  to  the  obedience  of  these  laws  are  so  great, 
and  the  punishments  threatened  on  disobedience  so 
dreadful,  that  it  is  impossible  but  all  men  must  fearfully 
fly  from  the  one,  and  as  eagerly  pursue  the  other.  If, 
therefore,  such  a  person  lives  in  direct  opposition  to, 
and  in  a  constant  breach  of  these  laws,  the  inference  is 
obvious.  There  is  a  pleasant  story  in  Matthew  Paris, 
which  I  will  tell  you  as  well  as  I  can  remember  it.  Two 
young  gentlemen  (1  think  they  were  priests)  agreed  to- 
gether, that  whosoever  died  first,  should  return  and  ac- 
quaint his  friend  with  the  secrets  of  the  other  world. 
One  of  them  died  soon  after,  and  fulfilled  his  promise. 
The  whole  relation  he  gave  is  not  very  material ;  but, 
among  other  things,  he  produced  one  of  his  hands,  which 
Satan  had  made  use  of  to  write  upon,  as  the  moderns  do 
on  a  card ;  and  had  sent  his  compliments  to  the  priests, 
for  the  number  of  souls  which  the  wicked  example  of 
their  lives  daily  sent  to  hell.  This  story  is  the  more 
remarkable,  as  it  was  written  by  a  priest,  and  a  great 
favourer  of  his  order." 

"  Excellent !"  cried  the  old  gentleman  :  "  what  a  mem- 
ory you  have  !" 

"  But,  sir,"  cries  the  young  one,  "  a  clergyman  is  a 
man  as  well  as  another:  and  if  such  perfect  purity  be 
expected — " 

"  I  do  not  expect  it,"  cries  the  doctor :  "  and  I  hope 
it  will  not  be  expected  of  us.  The  Scripture  itself  gives 
us  this  hope,  where  the  best  of  us  are  said  to  fall  twenty 
times  a  day.  But  sure,  we  may  not  allow  the  practice 
of  any  of  those  grosser  crimes,  which  contaminate  the 
whole  mind.  We  may  expect  an  obedience  to  the  ten 
commandments,  and  an  abstinence  from  such  notorious 
vices  ;  as,  in  the  first  place,  avarice,  which  indeed  can 
hardly  subsist  without  the  breach  of  more  command- 
ments than  one.  Indeed,  it  would  be  excessive  candour 
33* 


390  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

to  imagine,  that  a  man  who  so  visibly  sets  his  whole 
heart,  not  only  on  this  world,  but  on  one  of  the  most 
worthless  things  in  it,  (for  so  is  money,  without  regard 
to  its  uses,)  should  be  at  the  same  time  laying  up  his 
treasure  in  heaven.  Ambition  is  a  second  vice  of  this 
sort :  we  are  told  we  cannot  serve  God  and  Mammon. 
I  might  have  applied  this  to  avarice  ;  but  I  choose 
rather  to  mention  it  here.  When  we  see  a  man  sneak- 
ing about  in  courts  and  levees,  and  doing  the  dirty  work 
of  great  men,  from  the  hopes  of  preferment,  can  we 
believe,  that  a  fellow  whom  we  see  to  have  so  many 
hard  task-masters  upon  earth,  ever  thinks  of  his  Master 
which  is  in  heaven  ?  Must  he  not  himself  think,  if  ever 
he  reflects  at  all,  that  so  glorious  a  Master  will  disdain 
and  disown  a  servant  who  is  the  dutiful  tool  of  a  court 
favourite,  and  employed  either  as  a  pimp  of  his  pleasure, 
or  sometimes,  perhaps,  made  a  dirty  channel,  to  assist 
in  the  conveyance  of  that  corruption  which  is  clogging 
up  and  destroying  the  very  vitals  of  his  country  1 

"  The  last  vice  which  I  shall  mention  is  pride.  There 
is  not  in  the  universe  a  more  ridiculous  nor  a  more  con- 
temptible animal  than  a  proud  clergyman  :  a  turkey- 
cock  or  a  jackdaw  are  objects  of  veneration,  when  com- 
pared with  him.  I  don't  mean,  by  pride,  that  noble  dig- 
nity of  mind,  to  which  goodness  can  only  administer  an 
adequate  object,  which  delights  in  the  testimony  of  its 
own  conscience,  and  could  not,  without  the  highest 
agonies,  bear  its  condemnation.  By  pride,  I  mean  that 
saucy  passion,  which  exults  in  every  little  eventual  pre- 
eminence over  other  men  ;  such  are  the  ordinary  gifts 
of  nature,  and  the  paltry  presents  of  fortune,  wit,  knowl- 
edge, birth,  strength,  beauty,  riches,  titles,  and  rank  \ 
that  passion  which  is  ever  aspiring,  like  a  silly  child,  to 
look  over  the  heads  of  all  about  them  ;  which,  while  it 
servilely  adheres  to  the  great,  flies  from  the  poor,  as  if 
afraid  of  contamination ;  devouring  greedily  every  mur- 
mur of  applause,  and  every  look  of  admiration  ;  pleased 
and  elated  with  all  kind  of  respect,  and  hurt  and  inflamed 
with  the  contempt  of  the  lowest  and  most  despicable  of 
fools;  even  with  such  as  treated  you  last  night  disrespect- 
fully at  Vauxhall.  Can  such  a  mind  as  this  be  fixed  on 
things  above  1  Can  such  a  man  reflect  that  he  has  the 
ineff"able  honour  to  be  employed  in  the  immediate  ser- 
vice of  his  great  Creator?  Or,  can  he  please  himself 
with  the  heart-warming  hope,  that  his  ways  are  accept- 


THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA.  391 

able  in  the  sight  of  that  glorious,  that  incomprehensible 
Being  V 

"  Hear,  child,  hear,"  cries  the  old  gentleman  :  "  hear, 
and  improve  your  understanding.  Indeed,  my  good 
friend,  no  one  retires  from  you  without  carrying  away 
some  good  instructions  with  him.  Learn  of  the  doctor, 
Tom.  and  you  will  be  the  better  man  as  long  as  you 
live." 

"  Undoubtedly,  sir,"  answered  Tom,  "  the  doctor  has 
spoken  a  great  deal  of  excellent  truth ;  and,  without  a 
compliment  to  him,  I  was  always  a  great  admirer  of  his 
sermons,  particularly  of  their  oratory :  but, 

'  Nee  tarnen  hoc  tribuens  dederim  quoque  caetera  ;' 

I  cannot  agree  that  a  clergyman  is  obliged  to  put  up  with 
an  affront  any  more  than  another  man,  and  more  espe- 
cially when  it  is  paid  to  the  order." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  young  gentleman,"  cries  the  doc- 
tor, "  that  you  should  be  ever  liable  to  be  affronted  as  a 
clergyman ;  and  I  do  assure  you,  if  I  had  known  your 
disposition  formerly,  the  order  should  never  have  been 
affronted  through  you." 

The  old  gentleman  now  began  to  check  his  son  for 
his  opposition  to  the  doctor ;  when  a  servant  delivered 
the  latter  a  note  from  Amelia,  which  he  read  immedi- 
ately to  himself,  and  it  contained  the  following  words : — 

"  My  Dear  Sir, 
"  Something  has  happened  since  I  saw  you,  which  gives  me  great 
uneasiness  ;  and  I  beg  the  favour  of  seeing  you  as  soon  as  possible, 
to  advise  you  upon  it.     I  am  your  most  obliged  and  dutiful  daugh- 
ter, Amelia  Booth." 

The  doctor's  answer  was  that  he  would  wait  on  the 
lady  directly ;  and  then  turning  to  his  friend,  he  asked 
him  if  he  would  not  take  a  walk  in  the  Park  before  din- 
ner. "  I  must  go,"  says  he,  "  to  the  lady  who  was  with 
us  last  night ;  for  I  am  afraid,  by  her  letter,  some  bad 
accident  has  happened  to  her.  Come,  young  gentle- 
man, I  spoke  a  little  too  hastily  to  you  just  now;  but  I 
ask  your  pardon.  Some  allowance  must  be  made  to  the 
warmth  of  your  blood.  1  hope  we  shall  in  time  both 
think  alike." 

The  old  gentleman  made  his  friend  another  compli- 
ment ;  and  the  young  one  declared,  he  hoped  he  should 
always  think,  and  act  too,  with  the  dignity  becoming  his 


392  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

cloth :  after  which  the  doctor  took  his  leave  for  a  while, 
and  went  to  Amelia's  lodgings. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  the  old  gentleman  fell  very 
severely  on  his  son.  "Tom,"  says  he,  "how  can  you 
be  such  a  fool,  to  undo  by  your  perverseness  all  that  I 
have  been  doing  1  Why  will  you  not  learn  to  study  man- 
kind with  the  attention  which  I  have  employed  to  that 
purpose  1  Do  you  think,  if  I  had  affronted  this  obstinate 
old  fellow  as  you  do,  I  should  ever  have  engaged  his 
friendship  r' 

"  I  cannot  help  it,  sir,"  said  Tom  :  "  I  have  not  studied 
six  years  at  the  university  to  give  up  my  sentiments  to 
every  one.  It  is  true,  indeed,  he  put  together  a  set  of 
sounding  words ;  but,  in  the  main,  I  never  heard  any  one 
talk  more  foolishly." 

"  What  of  that  f"  cries  the  father:  "I  never  told  you 
he  was  a  wise  man,  nor  did  I  ever  think  him  so.  If  he 
had  any  understanding,  he  would  have  been  a  bishop 
long  ago,  to  my  certain  knowledge  :  but,  indeed,  he 
has  been  always  a  fool  in  private  life  ;  for  I  question 
whether  he  is  worth  1001.  in  the  world,  more  than  his 
annual  income.  He  has  given  away  above  half  his 
fortune  to  the  Lord  knows  who.  I  believe  I  have  had 
above  200/.  of  him,  first  and  last ;  and  would  you  lose 
such  a  milch  cow  as  this  for  want  of  a  few  compli- 
ments'? Indeed,  Tom,  thou  art  as  great  a  simpleton  as 
himself.  How  do  you  expect  to  rise  in  the  church,  if 
you  cannot  temporize,  and  give  into  the  opinions  of  your 
superiors  1" 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  cries  Tom,  "  what  you  mean  by 
my  superiors.  In  one  sense,  I  own  a  doctor  of  divinity 
is  superior  to  a  bachelor  of  arts,  and  so  far  I  am  ready 
to  allow  his  superiority  ;  but  I  understand  Greek  and 
Hebrew  as  well  as  he  ;  and  will  maintain  my  opinion 
against  him,  or  any  other  in  the  schools." 

"  Tom,"  cries  the  old  gentleman, "  till  thou  gettest  the 
better  of  thy  conceit,  I  shall  never  have  any  hopes  of 
thee.  If  thou  art  wise,  thou  wilt  think  every  man  thy 
superior  of  whom  thou  canst  get  anything  ;  at  least, 
thou  wilt  persuade  him  that  thou  thinkest  so,  and  that  is 
sufficient.     Tom,  Tom,  thou  hast  no  pohcy  in  thee." 

"  What  have  I  been  learning  these  seven  years,"  an- 
swered he,  "  in  the  university  I  However,  father,  I  can 
account  for  your  opinion.  It  is  the  common  failing  of 
old  men  to  attribute  all  wisdom  to  themselves.     Nestor 


THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA.  393 

did  it  long-  ago  :  but  if  you  will  inquire  my  character  at 
college,  I  fancy  you  will  not  think  I  want  to  go  to  school 
again." 

The  father  and  son  then  went  to  take  their  walk,  du- 
ring which  the  former  repeated  many  good  lessons  of 
policy  to  his  son,  not  greatly  perhaps  to  his  edification. 
In  truth,  if  the  old  gentleman's  fondness  had  not,  in  a 
great  measure,  blinded  him  to  the  imperfections  of  his 
son,  he  would  have  soon  perceived  that  he  was  sowing 
all  his  instructions  in  a  soil  so  choked  with  self-conceit, 
that  it  was  utterly  impossible  they  should  ever  bear  any 
fruit. 


BOOK    X. 

CHA.PTER  I. — To  which  we  will  prefix  no  preface. 

The  doctor  found  Amelia  alone,  for  Booth  was  gone 
to  walk  with  his  new-revived  acquaintance,  Captain 
Trent,  who  seemed  so  well  pleased  with  the  renewal  of 
his  intercourse  with  his  old  brother  officer,  that  he  had 
been  almost  continually  with  him  from  the  time  of  their 
meeting  at  the  drum. 

Amelia  acquainted  the  doctor  with  the  purport  of  her 
message  as  follows  :  "  I  ask  your  pardon,  my  dear  sir, 
for  troubling  you  so  often  with  my  affairs;  but  I  know 
your  extreme  readiness,  as  well  as  ability,  to  assist  any 
one  with  your  advice.  The  fact  is,  that  my  husband  has 
been  presented  with  two  tickets  for  a  masquerade, 
which  is  to  be  in  a  day  or  two ;  and  he  insists  so 
strongly  on  my  going  with  him,  that  I  really  do  not 
know  how  to  refuse,  without  giving  him  some  reason; 
and  I  am  not  able  to  invent  any  other  than  the  true  one, 
which  you  would  not,  I  am  sure,  advise  me  to  communi- 
cate to  him.  Indeed,  I  had  a  most  narrow  escape  the 
other  day  ;  for  I  was  almost  drawn  in,  inadvertently,  by 
a  very  strange  accident,  to  acquaint  him  with  the  whole 
matter."  She  then  related  the  sergeant's  dream,  with 
all  the  consequences  that  attended  it. 

The  doctor  considered  a  little  with  himself,  and  then 
R3 


394  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

said,  "  I  am  really,  child,  puzzled  as  well  as  you  about 
this  matter.  I  would  by  no  means  have  you  go  to  the 
masquerade  :  I  do  not  indeed  like  the  diversion  itself,  as 
I  have  heard  it  described  to  me  ;  not  that  I  am  such  a 
prude  to  suspect  every  woman  who  goes  there  of  any 
evil  intentions ;  but  it  is  a  pleasure  of  too  loose  and  dis- 
orderly a  kind  for  the  recreation  of  a  sober  mind.  In- 
deed, you  have  a  still  stronger  and  more  particular  ob- 
jection :  I  will  try  myself  to  reason  him  out  of  it." 

"  Indeed,  it  is  impossible,"  answered  she ;  "  and  there- 
fore I  would  not  set  you  about  it.  1  never  saw  him 
more  set  on  anything.  There  is  a  party,  as  they  call  it, 
made  on  the  occasion  ;  and  he  tells  me  my  refusal  will 
disappoint  all." 

"  I  really  do  not  know  what  to  advise  you,"  cries  the 
doctor ;  "  1  have  told  you  I  do  not  approve  of  these  diver- 
sions ;  but  yet,  as  your  husband  is  so  very  desirous,  I 
cannot  think  there  will  be  any  harm  in  going  with  him  : 
however,  I  will  consider  of  it,  and  do  all  in  my  power 
for  you." 

Here  Mrs.  Atkinson  came  in,  and  the  discourse  on 
this  subject  ceased  ;  but  soon  after  Amelia  renewed  it, 
saying,  there  was  no  occasion  to  keep  anything  a  secret 
from  her  friend.  They  then  fell  to  debating  on  the  sub- 
ject, but  could  not  come  to  any  resolution  :  but  Mrs. 
Atkinson,  who  was  in  an  unusual  flow  of  spirits,  cried 
out,  "  Fear  nothing,  my  dear  Amelia,  two  women  surely 
will  be  too  hard  for  one  man.  I  think,  doctor,  it  exceeds 
Virgil  : 

'  Una  dolo  Divum  si  foemina  victa  duorum  est.'  " 

"  Very  well  repeated,  indeed,"  cries  the  doctor.  "  Do 
you  understand  all  Virgil  as  well  as  you  seem  to  do  that 
line  ?" 

"  I  hope  I  do,  sir,"  said  she,  "  and  Horace  too ;  or 
else  my  father  threw  away  his  time  to  very  little  pur- 
pose in  teaching  me." 

"I  ask  your  pardon,  madam,"  cries  the  doctor:  "I 
own  it  was  an  impertinent  question." 

"  Not  at  all,  sir,"  says  she  ;  "  and  if  you  are  one  of 
those  who  imagine  women  incapable  of  learning,  I  shall 
not  be  offended  at  it.     I  know  the  common  opinion ;  but 

» Interdum  vulgus  rectum  videt,  est  ubi  peccat.' " 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  395 

"If  I  was  to  profess  such  an  opinion,  madam,"  said 
the  doctor,  "  Madame  Dacier  and  yourself  would  bear 
testimony  against  me     The  utmost,  indeed,  that  I  should   'j 
venture,  would  be  to  question  the  utility  of  learning  in  a    / 
young  lady's  education." 

"  I  own,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  as  the  world  is  con- 
stituted, it  cannot  be  as  serviceable  to  her  fortune  as  it 
will  be  to  that  of  a  man  ;  but  you  will  allow,  doctor,  that 
learning  may  afford  a  woman,  at  least,  a  reasonable  and 
an  innocent  entertainment." 

"  But  I  will  suppose,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  it  may  have 
its  inconveniences :  as,  for  instance,  if  a  learned  lady 
should  meet  with  an  unlearned  husband,  might  she  not 
be  apt  to  despise  him  ?" 

"  I  think  not,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson ;  "  and,  if  I  may 
be  allowed  the  instance,  I  think  I  have  shown  myself, 
that  women,  who  have  learning  themselves,  can  be  con- 
tented without  that  qualification  in  a  man." 

"  To  be  sure,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  there  may  be  other 
qualifications,  which  may  have  their  weight  in  the  bal- 
ance :  but  let  us  take  the  other  side  of  the  question,  and 
suppose  the  learned  of  both  sexes  to  meet  in  the  mat- 
rimonial union  ;  may  it  not  afford  one  excellent  subject 
of  disputation,  which  is  the  most  learned  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson  :  "  for,  if  they  had 
both  learning  and  good  sense,  they  would  soon  see  on 
which  side  the  superiority  lay." 

"  But  if  the  learned  man,"  said  the  doctor,  "  should 
be  a  little  unreasonable  in  his  opinion,  are  you  sure  that 
the  learned  woman  would  preserve  her  duty  to  her  hus- 
band, and  submit !" 

"  But  why,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  must  we  necessa- 
rily suppose  that  a  learned  man  would  be  unreason- 
able V 

"  Nay,  madam,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  am  not  your  hus- 
band, and  you  shall  not  hinder  me  from  supposing  what 
I  please.  Surely  it  is  not  such  a  paradox  to  conceive 
that  a  man  of  learning  should  be  unreasonable  !  Are 
there  no  unreasonable  opinions  in  very  learned  authors, 
even  among  the  critics  themselves  ?  For  instance,  what 
can  be  a  more  strange,  and  indeed  unreasonable  opinion, 
than  to  prefer  the  Metamorphoses  of  Ovid  to  the  ^Eneid 
of  Virgil !" 
"  It  would  be  indeed  so  strange,"  cries  the  lady,  "  that 


396  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

you  shall  not  persuade  me  it  was  ever  the  opinion  of  any 
man." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  cries  the  doctor :  "  and  I  believe  you 
and  I  should  not  differ  in  our  judgments  of  any  person 
who  maintained  such  an  opinion.  What  a  taste  must  he 
have!" 

"A  most  contemptible  one,  indeed,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkin- 
son. 

"  I  am  satisfied,"  cries  the  doctor  ;  "  and,  in  the  words 
of  your  own  Horace,  Verbum  non  amplius  addam.''^ 

"  But  how  provoking  is  this,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  to 
draw  one  on  in  such  a  manner !  I  protest  I  was  so  warm 
in  the  defence  of  my  favourite  Virgil,  that  I  was  not 
aware  of  your  design  :  but  all  your  triumph  depends  on 
a  supposition  that  one  should  be  so  unfortunate  as  to 
meet  with  the  silliest  fellow  in  the  world." 

"Not  in  the  least,"  cries  the  doctor:  "  Doctor  Bent- 
ley  was  not  such  a  person ;  and  yet  he  would  have 
quarrelled,  I  am  convinced,  with  any  wife  in  the  world 
in  behalf  of  one  of  his  corrections.  I  don't  suppose  he 
would  have  given  up  his  ingentiafata  to  an  angel." 

"  But  do  you  think,"  said  she,  "  if  1  had  loved  him,  I 
would  have  contended  with  him  V 

"Perhaps  you  might  sometimes,"  said  the  doctor, 
*'  be  of  these  sentiments  ;  but  you  remember  your  own 
Virgil — Varium  el  mntahile  semper  Fcemina.''^ 

*'  Nay,  Amelia,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  you  are  now- 
concerned  as  well  as  I  am ;  for  he  has  now  abused  the 
whole  sex,  and  quoted  the  severest  thing  that  ever  was 
said  against  us,  though  I  allow  it  is  one  of  the  finest." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  my  dear,"  cries  Amelia :  "  I  have 
the  advantage  of  you,  however,  for  I  don't  understand 
him." 

"  Nor  does  she  understand  much  better  than  your- 
self," cries  the  doctor ;  "  or  she  would  not  admire  non- 
sense, even  though  in  Virgil." 

*'  Pardon  me,  sir,"  said  she. 

"  And  pardon  me,  madam,"  cries  the  doctor,  with  a 
feigned  seriousness :  "  I  say,  a  boy  in  the  fourth  form 
at  Eton  would  be  whipped,  or  would  deserve  to  be 
whipped  at  least,  who  made  the  neuter  gender  agree 
with  the  feminine.  You  have  heard,  however,  that  Vir- 
gil left  his  ^neid  incorrect ;  and,  perhaps,  had  he  lived 
to  correct  it,  we  should  not  have  seen  the  faults  we  nov/ 
see  in  it." 


THE    HISTORY   OP   AMELIA.  397 

*'  Why,  it  is  very  true  as  you  say,  doctor,"  cries  Mrs. 
Atkinson.  "  There  seems  to  be  a  false  concord.  I  pro- 
test I  never  thought  of  it  before." 

"And  yet  this  is  the  Virgil,"  answered  the  doctor, 
*'  that  you  are  so  fond  of,  who  has  made  you  all  of  the 
neuter  gender;  or,  as  we  say  in  English,  he  has  made 
mere  animals  of  you  :  for  if  we  translate  it  thus, 

Woman  is  a  various  and  changeable  animal, 

there  will  be  no  fault,  I  believe,  unless  in  point  of  civil- 
ity to  the  ladies." 

Mrs.  Atkinson  had  just  time  to  tell  the  doctor  he  was 
a  provoking  creature,  before  the  arrival  of  Booth  and  his 
friend  put  an  end  to  that  learned  discourse,  in  which  nei- 
ther of  the  parlies  had  greatly  recommended  themselves 
to  each  other ;  the  doctor's  opinion  of  the  lady  being  not 
at  all  heightened  by  her  progress  in  the  classics ;  and 
she,  on  the  other  hand,  having  conceived  a  great  dislike 
in  her  heart  towards  the  doctor,  which  would  have  raged, 
perhaps,  with  no  less  fury  from  the  consideration  that  he 
had  been  her  husband. 


Chapter  II.— What  happened  at  the  masquerade. 

From  this  time  to  the  day  of  the  masquerade,  nothing 
happened  of  consequence  enough  to  have  a  place  in  this 
history. 

On  chat  day  Colonel  James  came  to  Booth's  about 
nine  in  the  evening,  where  he  stayed  for  Mrs.  James, 
who  did  not  come  till  near  eleven:  the  four  masks  then 
set  out  together  in  several  chairs,  and  all  proceeded 
to  the  Haymarket. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  opera-house,  the  colonel 
and  Mrs.  James  presently  left  them  ;  nor  did  Booth  and 
his  lady  remain  long  together,  but  were  soon  divided 
from  each  other  by  different  masks. 

A  domino  soon  accosted  the  lady,  and  had  her  away 
to  the  upper  end  of  the  farthest  room  on  the  right  hand, 
where  both  the  masks  sat  down ;  nor  was  it  long  be- 
fore the  he  domino  began  to  make  very  fervent  love  to 
the  she.  It  would,  perhaps,  be  tedious  to  the  reader  to 
run  through  the  whole  process,  which  was  not  indeed  in 
the  most  romantic  style.  The  lover  seemed  to  consider 
34 


398  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

his  mistress  as  a  mere  woman  of  this  world,  and  seemed 
rather  to  apply  to  her  avarice  and  ambition  than  to  her 
softer  passions. 

As  he  was  not  so  careful  to  conceal  his  true  voice  as 
the  lady  was,  she  soon  discovered  that  this  lover  of  hers 
was  no  other  than  her  old  friend  the  peer ;  and  presently 
a  thought  suggested  itself  to  her  of  making  an  advantage 
of  this  accident.  She  gave  him,  therefore,  an  intima- 
tion that  she  knew  him,  and  expressed  some  astonish- 
ment at  his  having  found  her  out.  "  I  suspect,"  says 
she,  "my  lord,  that  you  have  a  friend  in  the  woman 
where  I  now  lodge,  as  well  as  you  had  in  Mrs.  Ellison." 
My  lord  protested  to  the  contrary ;  to  which  she  an- 
swered, "  Nay,  my  lord,  do  not  defend  her  so  earnestly, 
till  you  are  sure  I  should  have  been  angry  with  her." 

At  these  words,  which  were  accompanied  with  a  very 
bewitching  softness,  my  lord  flew  into  raptures  rather 
too  strong  for  the  place  he  was  in.  These  the  lady 
gently  checked,  and  begged  him  to  take  care  they  were 
not  observed  ;  for  that  her  husband,  for  aught  she  knew, 
was  then  in  the  room. 

Colonel  James  now  came  up,  and  said,  "  So,  madamv 
I  have  the  good  fortune  to  find  you  again :  I  have  been 
extremely  miserable  since  I  lost  you."  The  lady  an- 
swered, in  her  masquerade  voice,  that  she  did  not  know 
him.  "  I  am  Colonel  James,"  said  he,  in  a  whisper. 
"  Indeed,  sir,"  answered  she,  "  you  are  mistaken  :  I  have 
no  acquaintance  with  any  Colonel  James."  "Madam," 
answered  he,  in  a  whisper  likewise,  "  I  am  positive  I  am 
not  mistaken  :  you  are  certainly  Mrs.  Booth."  "'  Indeed, 
sir,"  said  she,  "  you  are  very  impertinent,  and  I  beg  you 
will  leave  me."  My  lord  then  interposed,  and  speaking- 
in  his  own  voice,  assured  the  colonel  that  the  lady  was 
a  woman  of  quality,  and  that  they  were  engaged  in  a 
conversation  together:  upon  which  the  colonel  asked 
the  lady's  pardon  ;  for  as  there  was  nothing  remarkable 
in  her  dress,  he  really  believed  he  had  been  mistaken. 

He  then  went  again  a  hunting  through  the  rooms,  and 
soon  after  found  Booth  walking  without  his  mask  be- 
tween two  ladies,  one  of  whom  was  a  blue  domino,  and 
the  other  in  the  dress  of  a  shepherdess.  "  Will,"  cries 
the  colonel,  "  do  you  know  what  is  become  of  our  wives? 
for  I  have  seen  neither  of  them  since  we  have  been  in 
the  room."  Booth  answered,  that  he  supposed  they 
were  both  together,  and  they  should  find  them  by-and- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  399 

by.  *'  What,"  cries  the  lady  in  the  blue  domino,  "  are 
you  both  come  upon  duty  then  with  your  wives  1  as  for 
yours,  Mr.  Alderman,"  said  she  to  the  colonel, "  I  make 
no  question  but  she  is  got  into  much  better  company 
than  her  husband's."  "  How  can  you  be  so  cruel,  mad- 
am T"  said  the  shepherdess :  "  you  will  make  him  beat 
his  wife  by-and-by ;  for  he  is  a  military  man,  I  assure 
you.-'  "  In  the  trained  bands,  I  presume,"  cries  the 
domino, '*  for  he  is  plainly  dated' from  the  city."  "I 
own,  indeed,"  cries  the  other,  *' the  gentleman  smells 
strongly  of  Thames-street ;  and,  if  I  may  venture  to 
guess,  of  the  honourable  calling  of  a  tailor." 

-"  Why,  what  the  devil  hast  thou  picked  up  here  ]" 
€ries  James. 

"  Upon  my  soul,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Booth ;  "  I 
wish  you  would  take  one  of  them  at  least." 

"  What  say  you,  madam  ?"  cries  the  domino  ;  "  will 
you  go  with  the  colonel  1  I  assure  you,  you  have  mis- 
taken your  man,  for  he  is  no  less  a  person  than  the  great 
Colonel  James  himself." 

^'  No  wonder,  then,  that  Mr.  Booth  gives  him  his  choice 
of  us ;  it  is  the  proper  office  of  a  caterer,  in  which  ca- 
pacity Mr.  Booth  has,  I  am  told,  the  honour  to  serve  the 
noble  colonel.'"' 

*'  Much  good  may  it  do  you  with  your  ladies,"  said 
James  ;  "  I  will  go  in  pursuit  of  better  game."  At  which 
words  he  walked  off. 

"  You  are  a  true  sportsman,"  cried  the  shepherdess ; 
■'='  for  your  only  pleasure,  I  believe,  lies  in  the  pursuit," 

"Do  you  know  the  gentleman,  madam!"  cries  the 
domino. 

"  Who  does  not  know  him  1"  answered  the  shep- 
herdess. 

"  What  is  his  character  V  cries  the  domino  ;  *'  for 
fnough  I  have  jested  with  him,  I  only  know  him  by  sight." 

^  1  know  nothing  very  particular  in  his  character," 
cries  the  shepherdess.  "  He  gets  every  handsome  wo- 
man he  can,  and  so  they  do  all." 

"  I  suppose,  then,  he  is  not  married,"  said  the  domino, 

**  Oh,  )^es,  and  married  for  love  too,"  answered  the 
other;  *'  but  he  has  loved  away  all  his  love  for  her  long 
ago,  and  now,  he  says,  she  makes  as  fine  an  object  of 
hatred.  I  think,  if  the  fellow  ever  appears  to  have  any 
wit,  it  is  when  he  abuses  his  wife ;  and,  luckily  for  him, 


400  THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA. 

that  is  his  favourite  topic.    I  don't  know  the  poor  wretch  j 
but,  as  he  describes  her,  it  is  a  miserable  animal." 

"  1  know  her  very  well,"  cries  the  other,  "  and  I  am 
much  mistaken  if  she  is  not  even  with  him :  but  hang  him, 
what  is  become  of  Booth  V 

At  this  instant  a  great  noise  arose  near  that  part  where 
the  two  ladies  were.  This  was  occasioned  by  a  large 
assembly  of  young  fellows,  whom  they  call  bucks,  who 
were  got  together,  and  were  enjoying,  as  the  phrase  is,  a 
letter,  whjch  one  of  ihem  had  found  in  the  room. 

Curiosity  has  its  votaries  among  ail  ranks  of  people  : 
whenever,  therefore,  an  object  of  this  appears,  it  is  as 
sure  of  attracting  a  crowd  in  the  assemblies  of  the  polite 
as  in  those  of  their  inferiors. 

When  this  crowd  was  gathered  together,  one  of  the 
bucks,  at  the  desire  of  his  companions,  as  well  as  of  all 
present,  performed  the  part  of  a  public  orator,  and  read 
out  the  following  letter,  which  we  shall  give  the  reader, 
together  with  the  comments  of  the  orator  himself,  and 
of  all  his  audience. 

The  orator  then,  being  mounted  on  a  bench,  began  as 
follows  : — 

*'  Here  beginneth  the  first  chapter  of— saint — pox  on't, 
Jack,  what  is  the  saint's  name  \  I  have  forgotten." 

"  Timothy,  you  blockhead!"  answered  another,  "  Tim- 
othy.*' 

"  Well,  then,"  cries  the  orator,  "  of  Saint  Timothy : — 

"  '  Sir,  I  am  very  sorry  to  have  any  occasion  of  writing 
on  the  following  subject  in  a  country  that  is  honoured 
with  the  name  of  Christian;  much  more  am  I  concerned 
to  address  myself  to  a  man,  whose  many  advantages, 
derived  both  from  nature  and  fortune,  should  demand  the 
highest  return  of  gratitude  to  the  great  Giver  of  all  those 
good  things.  Is  not  such  a  man  guilty  of  the  highest 
ingratitude  to  that  most  beneficent  Being,  by  a  direct  and 
avowed  disobedience  of  his  most  positive  laws  and  com- 
mands "? 

*' '  I  need  not  tell  you  that  adultery  is  forbidden  in  the 
laws  of  the  decalogue  :  nor  need  I,  I  hope,  mention,  that 
it  is  expressly  forbidden  in  the  New  Testament.' 

"  You  see,  therefore,"  said  the  orator,  "what  the  law 
is,  and  therefore  none  of  you  will  be  able  to  plead  igno- 
rance when  you  come  to  the  Old  Bailey  in  the  other 
world.     But  here  goes  again : — 

"  '  If  it  had  not  been  so  expressly  forbidden  in  Scrip- 


^oorraf.     CTLuJCsUixR^ 


///  ^       -      I  Ir/.jr/  //  r  }r/^/r 


//r 


I 


THE    HISTORY  OP   AMELIA.  401 

tuie,  still  the  law  of  nature  would  have  yielded  light 
enough  for  us  to  have  discovered  the  great  horror  and 
atrociousness  of  this  crime  ;  and,  accordingly,  we  find 
that  nations  where  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  has  yet 
never  shined,  have  punished  the  adulterer  with  the  most 
exemplary  pains  and  penalties  ;  not  only  the  most  polite 
heathens,  but  the  most  barbarous  nations  have  concurred 
in  these ;  in  many  places  the  most  severe  and  corporeal 
punishments,  and  in  some,  and  those  not  a  few,  death 
itself  has  been  inflicted  on  this  crime. 

"  '  And  sure,  in  a  human  sense,  there  is  scarce  any 
gTiilt  which  deserves  to  be  more  severely  punished  :  it 
includes  in  it  almost  every  injury  and  every  mischief 
which  one  man  can  do  to,  or  can  bring  on,  another  :  it  is  ^ 
robbing  him  of  his  property.' 

**  Mind  that,  ladies,"  said  the  orator :  "  you  are  all  the 
property  of  your  husbands  : — '  And  of  that  property, 
which,  if  he  is  a  good  man,  he  values  above  all  others. 
It  is  poisoning  that  fountain,  whence  he  has  a  right  to 
derive  the  sweetest  and  most  innocent  pleasure,  the 
most  cordial  comfort,  the  most  solid  friendship,  and  most 
faithful  assistance  in  all  his  affairs,  wants,  and  distresses. 
It  is  the  destruction  of  his  peace  of  mind,  and  even  of  his 
reputation.  The  ruin  of  both  wife  and  husband,  and 
sometimes  of  the  whole  family,  are  the  probable  conse- 
quences of  this  fatal  injury.  Domestic  happiness  is  the 
end  of  almost  all  our  pursuits,  and  the  common  reward 
of  all  our  pains.  When  men  find  themselves  for  ever 
barred  from  this  delightful  fruition,  they  are  lost  to  all 
industry,  and  grow  careless  of  all  their  worldly  affairs. 
Thus  they  become  bad  subjects,  bad  relations,  bad  friends, 
and  bad  men  :  hatred  and  revenge  are  the  wretched  pas- 
sions which  boil  in  their  minds  :  despair  and  madness 
very  commonly  ensue  :  and  murder  and  suicide  often 
close  the  dreadful  scene.' 

"  Thus,  gentlemen  and  ladies,  you  see  the  scene  is 
closed.  So  here  ends  the  first  act — and  thus  begins  the 
second : — 

"  '  1  have  here  attempted  to  lay  before  you  a  picture 
of  this  vice,  the  horror  of  which  no  colours  of  mine  can 
exaggerate. ,  But  what  pencil  can  delineate  the  horrors 
of  that  punishment  which  the  Scripture  denounces  against 
it? 

^^  And  for  what  will  you  subject  yourself  to  this  pun- 
ishment ?  or  for  what  reward  will  you  inflict  all  this 
34* 


402  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

misery  on  another,  I  will  add,  on  your  friend  1  For  the 
possession  of  a  woman  ;  for  the  pleasure  of  a  moment : 
but  if  neither  virtue  nor  religion  can  restrain  your  inor- 
dinate appetites,  are  there  not  many  women  as  hand- 
some as  your  friend's  wife,  whom,  though  not  with  in- 
nocence, you  may  possess  with  a  much  less  degree  of 
guilt  ?  What  motive,  then,  can  thus  hurry  you  on  to  the 
destruction  of  yourself  and  your  friend  ?  Does  the 
peculiar  rankness  of  the  guilt  add  any  zest  to  the  sin  ? 
does  it  enhance  the  pleasure,  as  much  as  we  may  be 
assured  it  will  the  punishment  T 

'  ■  But  if  you  can  be  so  lost  to  all  sense  of  fear,  and  of 
shr.me,  and  of  goodness,  as  not  to  be  debarred  by  the 
evil  which  you  are  to  bring  on  yourself  by  the  extreme 
baseness  of  the  action,  nor  by  the  ruin  in  which  you  are 
to  involve  others,  let  me  still  urge  the  difficulty,  I  may 
say  the  impossibility,  of  the  success.  You  are  attacking 
a  fortress  on  a  rock  ;  a  chastity  so  strongly  defended,  as 
well  by  a  happy  natural  disposition  of  mind,  as  by  the 
strongest  principles  of  religion  and  virtue,  implanted  by 
education  and  nourished  and  improved  by  habit,  that  the 
woman  must  be  invincible  even  without  that  firm  and 
constant  affection  of  her  husband,  which  would  guard  a 
much  looser  and  worse  disposed  heart.  What,  therefore, 
are  you  attempting,  but  to  introduce  distrust,  and  perhaps 
disunion,  between  an  innocent  and  a  happy  couple,  iii 
which,  too,  you  cannot  succeed,  without  bringing,  I  an^ 
convinced,  certain  destruction  on  your  own  head  > 

"  '  Desist,  therefore,  let  me  advise  you,  from  this  enor-. 
mous  crime  ;  retreat  from  the  vain  attempt  of  climbing 
a  precipice  which  it  is  impossible  you  should  ever  ascend, 
where  you  must  probably  soon  fall  into  utter  perdi- 
tion, and  can  have  no  other  hope  but  of  dragging  down 
your  best  friend  into  perdition  with  you. 

"'  I  can  think  of  but  one  argument  more,  and  that,  in- 
deed, a  very  bad  one  ;  you  throw  away  that  time  in  an 
impossible  attempt,  which  might,  in  other  cases,  crown 
your  sinful  endeavours  with  success.' 
"  And  so  ends  the  dismal  ditty." 
"D — n  me,"  cries  one,  "did  ever  mortal  hear  such 
d— d  stuff?" 

"  Upon  my  soul,"  said  another,  "  I  like  the  last  argu- 
ment well  enough.  There  is  some  sense  in  that ;  for, 
d — n  me,  if  I  had  not  rather  go  to  D — g — ss  at  any  time, 
than  to  follow  a  virtuous  b— h  for  a  fortnight," 


THE  HISTORY    OF   AMELIA  403 

"  Tom,"  says  one  of  them,  "  let  us  set  the  ditty  to 
music :  let  us  subscribe  to  have  it  set  by  Handel :  it  will 
make  an  excellent  oratorio." 

"  D — n  me,  Jack,"  says  another,  "we'll  have  it  set  to 
a  psalm  tune,  and  we'll  sing  it  next  Sunday  at  St.  James's 
church,  and  I'll  bear  a  bob,  d — n  me." 

"  JFy  upon  it !  gentlemen,  fy  upon  it !"  said  a  friar,  who 
came  up ;  "  do  you  think  there  is  any  wit  and  humour 
in  this  ribaldry  1  or,  if  there  were,  would  it  make  any 
atonement  for  abusing  religion  and  virtue  ?" 

"  Heyday !"  cries  one,  "  this  is  a  friar  in  good  ear- 
nest." 

"  Whatever  I  am,"  said  the  friar,  "  I  hope  at  least  you 
are  what  you  appear  to  be.  Heaven  forbid,  for  the  sake 
of  our  posterity,  that  you  should  be  gentlemen." 

"  Jack,"  cries  one,  "  let  us  toss  the  friar  in  a  blanket." 

"Me  in  a  blanket?"  said  the  friar;  "by  the  dignity  of 
man,  I  will  twist  the  neck  of  every  one  of  you  as  sure  as 
ever  the  neck  of  a  dunghill  cock  was  twisted."  At 
which  words  he  pulled  off  his  mask,  and  the  tremendous 
majesty  of  Colonel  Bath  appeared,  from  which  the  bucks 
fled  away  as  fast  as  the  Trojans  heretofore  from  the  face 
of  Achilles.  The  colonel  did  not  think  it  worth  while  to 
pursue  any  other  of  them  except  him  who  had  the  letter 
in  his  hand,  which  the  colonel  desired  to  see,  and  the 
other  delivered,  saying  it  was  very  much  at  his  service. 

The  colonel,  being  possessed  of  the  letter,  retired  as 
privately  as  he  could,  in  order  to  give  it  a  careful  peru- 
sal ;  for,  badly  as  it  had  been  read  by  the  orator,  there 
"were  some  passages  in  it  which  had  pleased  the  colonel. 
He  had  just  got  through  it  when  Booth  passed  by  him  ; 
upon  which  the  colonel  called  to  him,  and,  delivering 
him  the  letter,  bid  him  put  it  in  his  pocket  and  read  it  at 
his  leisure.  He  made  many  encomiums  upon  it,  and  told 
Booth  it  would  be  of  service  to  him,  and  was  proper  for 
all  young  men  to  read. 

Booth  had  not  yet  seen  his  wife  ;  but  as  he  concluded 
she  was  safe  with  Mrs.  James,  he  was  not  uneasy.  He 
had  been  prevented  searching  further  after  her  by  the 
lady  in  the  blue  domino,  who  had  joined  him  again. 
Booth  had  now  made  these  discoveries :  that  the  lady 
was  pretty  well  acquainted  with  him  ;  that  she  was  a 
woman  of  fashion  ;  and  that  she  had  a  particular  regard 
for  him.  But,  though  he  was  a  gay  man,  he  was  in 
reality  so  fond  of  his  Amelia,  that  he  thought  of  no  other 


404  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

'woman ;  wherefore,  though  not  absolutely  a  Joseph,  as 
we  have  already  seen,  yet  could  he  not  be  guilty  of 
premeditated  inconstancy.  He  was,  indeed,  so  very 
cold  and  insensible  to  the  hints  which  were  given  him, 
that  the  lady  began  to  complain  of  his  dulness.  When 
the  shepherdess  again  came  up,  and  heard  this  accusa- 
tion against  him,  she  confirmed  it,  saying,  '*  I  do  assure 
you,  madam,  he  is  the  dullest  fellow  in  the  world.  In- 
deed, I  should  almost  take  you  for  his  wife,  by  finding 
you  a  second  time  with  him  ;  for  I  do  assure  you  the 
gentleman  very  seldom  keeps  any  other  company." 
"  Are  you  so  well  acquainted  with  him  ]"  said  the  dom- 
ino. "  I  have  had  that  honour  longer  than  your  lady- 
ship, I  believe,"  answered  the  shepherdess.  "  Possibly 
you  may,  madam,"  cries  the  domino;  "but  I  wish  you 
would  not  interrupt  us  at  present,  for  we  have  some 
business  together."  "  I  believe,  madam,"  answered  the 
shepherdess,  "  my  business  with  the  gentleman  is  alto- 
gether as  important  as  yours,  and  therefore  your  lady- 
ship may  withdraw  if  you  please."  "  My  dear  ladies," 
cries  Booth,  "  I  beg  you  will  not  quarrel  about  me." 
"  Not  at  all,"  answered  the  domino ;  "  since  you  are  so 
indifferent,  I  resign  my  pretensions  with  all  my  heart. 
If  you  had  not  been  the  dullest  fellow  upon  earth,  I  am 
convinced  you  must  have  discovered  me."  She  then 
went  off,  muttering  to  herself,  that  she  was  satisfied  the 
shepherdess  was  some  wretched  creature  whom  nobody 
knew. 

The  shepherdess  overheard  the  sarcasm,  and  answered 
it  by  asking  Booth  what  contemptible  wretch  he  had 
picked  up.  "  Indeed,  madam,"  said  he,  "  you  know  as 
much  of  her  as  I  do  ;  she  is  a  masquerade  acquaintance 
like  yourself."  "  Like  me  !"  repeated  she.  "  Do  you 
think,  if  this  had  been  our  first  acquaintance,  I  should 
have  wasted  so  much  time  with  you  as  I  have  ?  For 
your  part,  indeed,  I  believe  a  woman  will  get  very  little 
advantage  by  her  having  been  formerly  intimate  with 
you."  "  I  do  not  know,  madam,"  said  Booth,  "  that  I 
deserve  that  character,  any  more  than  I  know  the  person 
that  now  gives  it  to  me."  "  And  you  have  the  assurance, 
then,"  said  she,  in  her  own  voice,  "  to  aftect  not  to  re- 
member me  ?"  "  I  think,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  have  heard 
that  voice  before  ;  but,  upon  my  soul,  I  do  not  recollect 
it."  "  Do  you  recollect,"  said  she,  "  no  woman  that  you 
have  used  with  the  highest  barbarity — I  will  not  say  in- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  405 

gratitude  1"  "  No,  upon  my  honour,"  answered  Booth. 
"  Mention  not  honour,"  said  she,  "  thou  wretch  ;  for, 
hardened  as  thou  art,  I  could  show  thee  a  face,  that,  in 
spite  of  thy  consummate  impudence,  would  confound 
thee  with  shame  and  horror.  Dost  thou  not  yet  know 
me]"  "I  do,  madam,  indeed,"  answered  Booth;  "and 
I  confess,  that,  of  all  women  in  the  world,  you  have  the 
most  reason  for  what  you  said." 

Here  a  long  dialogue  ensued  between  the  gentleman 
and  the  lady,  whom,  I  suppose,  I  need  not  mention  to 
have  been  Miss  Matthews:  but,  as  it  consisted  chiefly 
of  violent  upbraidings  on  her  side  and  excuses  on  his, 
I  despair  of  making  it  entertaining  to  the  reader,  and 
shall  therefore  return  to  the  colonel,  who,  having 
searched  all  the  rooms  with  the  utmost  diligence  with- 
out finding  the  woman  he  looked  for,  began  to  suspect 
that  he  had  before  fixed  on  the  right  person,  and  that 
Amelia  had  denied  herself  to  him,  being  pleased  with 
her  paramour,  whom  he  had  discovered  to  be  the  noble 
peer. 

He  resolved,  therefore,  as  he  could  have  no  sport  him- 
self, to  spoil  that  of  others :  accordingly  he  found  out 
Booth,  and  asked  him  again  what  was  become  of  both 
their  wives  ;  for  that  he  had  searched  all  over  the  rooms, 
and  could  find  neither  of  them. 

Booth  was  now  a  httle  alarmed  at  this  account ;  and, 
parting  with  Miss  Matthews,  went  along  with  the  colonel 
in  search  of  his  wife.  As  for  Miss  Matthews,  he  had  at 
length  pacified  her  with  a  promise  to  make  her  a  visit ; 
which  promise  she  extorted  from  him,  swearing  bitterly, 
in  the  most  solemn  manner,  unless  he  made  it  to  her, 
she  would  expose  both  him  and  herself  at  the  masquer- 
ade. 

As  he  knew  the  violence  of  the  lady's  passions,  and 
to  what  heights  they  were  capable  of  rising,  he  was 
obliged  to  come  into  these  terms ;  for  he  had,  I  am  con- 
vinced, no  fear  upon  earth  equal  to  that  of  Amelia's 
knowing  what  it  was  in  the  power  of  Miss  Matthews  to 
communicate  to  her,  and  which  to  conceal  from  her  he 
had  already  undergone  so  much  uneasiness. 

The  colonel  led  Booth  directly  to  the  place  where  he 
had  seen  the  peer  and  Amelia  (such  he  was  now  well 
convinced  she  was)  sitting  together.  Booth  no  sooner 
saw  her,  than  he  said  to  the  colonel,  "  Sure,  that  is  my 
wife  in  conversation  with  that  mask  I"    "  I  took  her  for 


406  THE    HISTORY  OF   AMELIA. 

your  lady  myself,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  but  I  found  I  was 

mistaken.     Hark'ee,  that  is  my  Lord ,  and  I  have 

seen  that  very  lady  with  him  all  this  night." 

This  conversation  passed  at  a  little  distance,  and  out 
of  the  hearing  of  the  supposed  Amelia  :  when  Booth, 
looking  steadfastly  ai  the  lady,  declared,  with  an  oath, 
that  he  was  positive  the  colonel  was  in  the  right.  She 
then  beckoned  to  him  with  her  fan ;  upon  which,  he 
M'ent  directly  to  her ;  and  she  asked  him  to  go  home, 
which  he  very  readily  consented  to.  Tlie  peer  then 
walked  off;  the  colonel  went  in  pursuit  of  his  wife,  or 
of  some  other  woman  ;  and  Booth  and  his  lady  repaired 
in  two  chairs  to  their  lodgings. 


Chapter  III. — Consequences  of  the  masquerade,  not  uncommon 
nor  surprising. 

The  lady,  getting  first  out  of  her  chair,  ran  hastily  up 
into  the  nursery  to  the  children  :  for  such  was  Amelia's 
constant  method  at  her  return  home,  at  whatever  hour. 
Booth  then  walked  into  the  dining-room,  where  he  had 
not  been  long,  before  Amelia  can»e  down  to  him,  and, 
with  a  most  cheerful  countenance,  said,  "  My  dear,  I 
fancy  we  have  neither  of  us  supped :  shall  I  go  down 
and  see  whether  there  is  any  cold  meat  in  the  house  1" 

"  For  yourself,  if  you  please,"  answered  Booth ;  "  but 
I  shall  eat  nothing." 

"  How,  my  dear?"  said  Amelia.  "I  hope  you  have 
not  lost  your  appetite  at  the  masquerade."  For  supper 
was  a  meal  at  which  he  generally  ate  very  heartily. 

"I  know  not  well  what  I  have  lost,"  said  Booth:  "I 
find  myself  disordered:  my  head  aches.  I  know  not 
what  is  the  matter  with  me." 

"Indeed,  my  dear,  you  frighten  me,"  said  Amelia: 
"you  look  indeed  disordered.  I  wish  the  masquerade 
had  been  far  enough  before  you  had  gone  thither." 

"Would  to  Heaven  it  had!"  cries  Booth;  "  but  that 
is  over  now.  But  pray,  Amelia,  answer  n>e  one  ques- 
tion :  who  was  that  gentleman  with  you  when  1  came 
up  to  you  1" 

"  The  gentleman,  my  dear !"  said  Amelia,  "  what  gen- 
tleman ?" 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  407 

"The  gentleman,  the  nobleman,  when  I  came  up: 
sure  I  speak  plain." 

"  Upon  my  word,  my  dear,  I  don't  understand  you," 
answered  she  :  "  1  did  not  know  one  person  at  the  mas- 
querade." 

"  How !"  said  he,  "  what !  spend  the  whole  evening 
with  a  mask  without  knowing  him  1" 

"  Why,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  you  know  we  were  not 
together." 

"  I  know  we  were  not,"  said  he  ;  "  but  what  is  that  to 
the  purpose  1  sure  you  answer  me  strangely.  I  know 
we  were  not  together;  and  therefore  I  ask  you  whom 
you  were  withi" 

"  Nay,  but,  my  dear,"  said  she,  *'  can  I  tell  people  in 
masks  ]" 

"  I  say  again,  madam,"  said  he,  "  would  yon  converse 
two  hours  or  more  with  a  mask  whom  you  did  not 
know  ]" 

"  Indeed,  child,"  says  she,  "  I  know  nothing  of  the 
methods  of  a  masquerade  ;  for  I  never  was  at  one  in  my 
life." 

"  I  wish  to  Heaven  you  had  not  been  at  this,"  cries 
Booth.  "  Nay,  you  will  wish  so  yourself,  if  you  tell  me 
truth.  What  have  I  said?  do  1,  can  I  suspect  you  of 
not  speaking  truth  1  Since  you  are  ignorant  then,  I  will 
inform  you:  the  man  you  have  conversed  with  was  no 
other  than  Lord  ." 

"  And  is  that  the  reason,"  said  she,  "  you  wish  I  had 
not  been  there  ?" 

"And  is  not  that  reason,"  answered  he,  *'  sufficient? 
Is  he  not  the  last  man  upon  earth  with  whom  I  would 
have  you  converse  V 

"  So  you  really  wish,  then,  that  I  had  not  been  at  the 
masquerade  V 

"  1  do,"  cried  he,  "  from  my  soul." 

"  So  may  I  ever  be  able,"  cried  she,  "  to  indulge  you 
in  every  wish  as  in  this  !     I  was  not  there." 

"  Do  not  trifle,  Amelia,"  cried  he :  "  you  would  not 
jest  with  me  if  you  knew  the  situation  of  my  mind." 

*'  Indeed,  I  do  not  jest  with  you,"  said  she.  "  Upon 
my  honour,  I  was  not  there.  Forgive  me  this  first  de- 
ceit I  ever  practised,  and  indeed  it  shall  be  the  last ;  for 
I  have  paid  severely  for  this  by  the  uneasiness  it  has 
given  me."  She  then  revealed  the  whole  secret,  which 
was  this : 


408  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

I  think  it  has  been  already  mentioned,  in  some  part  of 
this  history,  that  Amelia  and  Mrs.  Atkinson  were  ex- 
actly of  the  same  make  and  stature,  and  that  there  was 
likewise  a  very  near  resemblance  between  their  voices. 
When  Mrs.  Atkinson,  therefore,  found  that  Amelia  was 
so  extremely  averse  to  the  masquerade,  she  proposed  to 
go  thither  in  her  stead,  and  to  pass  upon  Booth  for  his 
own  wife. 

This  was  afterward  very  easily  executed ;  for,  when 
they  left  Booth's  lodgings,  Amelia,  who  went  last  to  her 
chair,  ran  back  to  fetch  her  mask,  as  she  pretended, 
which  she  had  purposely  left  behind.  She  then  whipped 
off  her  domino,  and  threw  it  over  Mrs.  Atkinson,  who 
stood  ready  to  receive  it,  and  ran  immediately  down 
stairs  ;  and,  stepping  into  Amelia's  chair,  proceeded  with 
the  rest  to  the  masquerade. 

As  her  stature  exactly  suited  that  of  Amelia,  she  had 
very  little  difficulty  to  carry  on  the  imposition  ;  for,  be- 
sides the  natural  resemblance  of  their  voices,  and  the 
opportunity  of  speaking  in  a  feigned  one,  she  had  scarce 
an  intercourse  of  six  words  with  Booth  during  the  whole 
time  ;  for  the  moment  they  got  into  the  crowd,  she  took 
the  first  opportunity  of  slipping  from  him  ;  and  he,  as 
the  reader  may  remember,  being  seized  by  other  women, 
and  concluding  his  wife  to  be  safe  with  Mrs.  James,  was 
very  well  satisfied,  till  the  colonel  set  him  upon  the 
search,  as  we  have  seen  before. 

Mrs.  Atkinson,  the  moment  she  came  home,  ran  up 
stairs  to  the  nursery,  where  she  found  Amelia,  and  told 
her,  in  haste,  that  she  might  very  easily  carry  on  the  de- 
ceit with  her  husband  ;  for  that  she  might  tell  him  what 
she  pleased  to  invent,  as  they  had  not  been  a  minute  to- 
gether during  the  whole  evening. 

Booth  was  no  sooner  satisfied  that  his  wife  had  not 
been  from  home  that  evening,  than  he  fell  into  raptures 
with  her,  gave  her  a  thousand  tender  caresses,  blamed 
his  own  judgment,  acknowledged  the  goodness  of  hers, 
and  vowed  never  to  oppose  her  will  more  in  any  one 
instance  during  his  life. 

Mrs.  Atkinson,  who  was  still  in  the  nursery  with  her 
masquerade  dress,  was  then  summoned  down  stairs  ; 
and  when  Booth  saw  her,  and  heard  her  speak  in  a 
mimic  tone,  he  declared  he  was  not  surprised  at  his 
having  been  imposed  upon ;  for  that  if  they  were  both 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  409 

ill  the  same  disguise,  he  should  scarce  be  able  to  dis- 
cover the  difference  between  them. 

They  then  sat  down  to  half  an  hour's  cheerful  con- 
versation ;  after  which  they  retired  all  in  the  most  per- 
fect good-humour. 


Chapter  IV.— Consequences  of  the  masquerade. 

When  Booth  rose  in  the  morning,  he  found  in  his 
pocket  that  letter  which  had  been  delivered  to  him  by 
Colonel  Bath,  which,  had  not  chance  brought  to  his  re- 
membrance, he  might  possibly  have  never  recollected. 

He  had  now,  however,  the  curiosity  to  open  the  letter, 
and  beginning  to  read  it,  the  matter  of  it  drew  him  on, 
till  he  perused  the  whole  ;  for,  notwithstanding  the  con- 
tempt cast  upon  it  by  those  learned  critics,  the  bucks, 
neither  the  subject,  nor  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
treated,  was  altogether  contenjptible. 

But  there  was  still  another  motive  which  induced 
Booth  to  read  the  whole  letter;  and  this  was,  that  he 
presently  thought  he  knew  the  hand.  He  did,  indeed, 
immediately  conclude  it  was  Doctor  Harrison's,  for  the 
doctor  wrote  a  very  remarkable  one  ;  and  this  letter  con- 
tained all  the  particularities  of  the  doctor's  character. 

He  had  just  finished  a  second  reading  of  this  letter, 
when  the  doctor  himself  entered  the  room.  The  good 
man  was  impatient  to  know  the  success  of  Amelia's 
stratagem  ;  for  he  bore  towards  her  all  that  love  which 
esteem  can  create  in  a  good  mind,  without  the  assist- 
ance of  those  selfish  considerations,  from  which  the  love 
of  wives  and  children  maybe  ordinarily  deduced ;  the 
latter  of  which,  Nature,  by  very  subtle  and  refined  rea- 
soning, suggests  to  us  to  be  part  of  our  dear  selves  ;  and 
the  former,  as  long  as  they  remain  the  objects  of  our 
liking,  that  same  Nature  is  furnished  with  very  plain  and 
fertile  arguments,  to  recommend  to  our  afiections.  But 
to  raise  that  affection  in  the  human  breast  which  the 
doctor  had  for  Amelia,  Nature  is  forced  to  use  a  kind  of 
logic,  which  is  no  more  understood  by  a  bad  man  than 
Sir  Isaac  Newton's  doctrine  of  colours  is  by  one  born 
blind  :  and  yet,  in  reality,  it  contains  nothing  more  ab- 
struse than  this  ;  that  an  injury  is  the  object  of  anger, 
danger  of  fear,  and  praise  of  vanity  ;  for  in  the  same 
35  S 


410  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

simple  manner  it  may  be  asserted,  that  goodness  is  the 
object  of  love. 

The  doctor  inquired  immediately  for  his  child,  for  so 
he  often  called  Amelia  :  Booth  answered,  that  he  had 
left  her  asleep,  for  that  she  had  had  but  a  restless  night. 
"  I  hope  she  is  not  disordered  by  the  masquerade,"'  cries 
the  doctor.  Booth  answered,  he  believed  she  would  be 
very  well  when  she  waked.  "  I  fancy,"  said  he,  "  her 
gentle  spirits  were  a  little  too  much  fluttered  last  night ; 
that  is  all." 

"  I  hope,  then,"  said  the  doctor,  "  you  will  never  more 
insist  on  her  going  to  such  places,  but  know  your  own 
happiness  in  having  a  wife  that  has  the  discretion  to 
avoid  those  places  ;  which,  though  perhaps  they  may 
not  be,  as  some  represent  them,  such  brothels  of  vice 
and  debauchery  as  would  impeach  the  character  of  ev- 
ery virtuous  woman  who  was  seen  at  them,  are  cer- 
tainly, however,  scenes  of  riot,  disorder,  and  intemper- 
ance, very  improper  to  be  frequented  by  a  chaste  and 
sober  Christian  matron." 

Booth  declared  that  he  was  very  sensible  of  his  error  ; 
and  that,  so  far  from  soliciting  his  wife  to  go  to  another 
masquerade,  he  did  not  intend  ever  to  go  thither  any 
more  himself. 

The  doctor  highly  approved  the  resolution ;  and  then 
Booth  said,  "  And  I  thank  you,  my  dear  friend,  as  well 
as  my  wife's  discretion,  that  she  was  not  at  the  masquer- 
ade last  night."  He  then  related  to  the  doctor  the  dis- 
covery of  the  plot ;  and  the  good  man  was  greatly 
pleased  with  the  success  of  the  stratagem,  and  that 
Booth  took  it  in  such  good  part. 

"  But,  sir,"  says  Booth,  "  I  had  a  letter  given  me  by  a 
lioble  colonel  there,  which  is  written  in  a  hand  so  very 
like  yours,  that  I  could  almost  swear  to  it.  Nor  is  the 
style,  as  far  as  I  can  guess,  unlike  your  own:  here  it  is, 
sir.     Do  you  own  the  letter,  doctor,  or  do  you  not  ?" 

The  doctor  took  the  letter,  and  having  looked  at  it  a 
moment,  said — "  And  did  the  colonel  himself  give  you 
this  letter  V 

"  The  colonel  himself,"  answered  Booth. 

"  Why,  then,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  he  is  surely  the  most 
impudent  fellow  that  the  world  ever  produced.  What, 
did  he  deliver  it  with  an  air  of  triumph?" 

"  He  delivered  it  me  with  air  enough,"  cries  Booth, 
"  after  his  owai  manner,  and  bid  me  read  it  for  my  edifi- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  411 

cation.  To  say  the  truth,  I  am  a  little  surprised  that  he 
should  single  me  out  of  all  mankind  to  deliver  the  letter 
to  :  I  do  not  think  I  deserve  the  character  of  such  a  hus- 
band. It  is  well  I  am  not  so  very  forward  to  take  an  af- 
front as  some  folks." 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  are  not,"  said  the  doctor; 
'•  and  your  behaviour  in  this  affair  becomes  both  the  man 
of  sense  and  the  Christian;  for,  it  would  be  surely  the 
greatest  folly,  as  well  as  the  most  daring  impiety,  to  risk 
your  own  life  for  the  impertinence  of  a  fool.  As  long 
as  you  are  assured  of  the  virtue  of  your  own  wife,  it  is 
wisdom  in  you  to  despise  the  efforts  of  such  a  wretch. 
Not,  indeed,  that  your  wife  accuses  him  of  any  down- 
right attack,  though  she  has  observed  enough  in  his  be- 
haviour to  give  offence  to  her  delicacy." 

"  You  astonish  me,  doctor,"  said  Booth.  "  What  can 
you  mean?  my  wife  dislike  his  behaviour!  Has  the 
colonel  ever  offended  her  V 

"  I  do  not  say  he  has  ever  offended  her  by  any  open 
declarations ;  nor  has  he  done  anything  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  most  romantic  notion  of  honour,  you  can,  or 
ought  to  resent ;  but  there  is  something  extremely  nice 
in  the  chastity  of  a  truly  virtuous  woman." 

"  And  has  my  wife  really  complained  of  anything  of 
that  kind  in  the  colonel  ]" 

"  Look  ye,  young  gentleman,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  I 
will  have  no  quarrelling  or  challenging;  I  find  I  have 
made  some  mistake,  and  therefore  I  insist  upon  it,  by  all 
the  rights  of  friendship,  that  you  give  me  your  word  of 
honour  you  will  not  quarrel  with  the  colonel  on  this  ac- 
count." 

"  I  do,  with  all  my  heart,"  said  Booth  ;  "  for,  if  I  did  not 
know  your  character,  I  should  absolutely  think  you  was 
jesting  with  me.  I  do  not  think  you  have  mistaken  my 
wife,  but  I  am  sure  she  has  mistaken  the  colonel ;  and 
has  misconstrued  some  overstrained  point  of  gallantry, 
something  of  the  Quixote  kind,  into  a  design  against  her 
chastity  :  but  I  have  that  opinion  of  the  colonel,  that  I 
hope  you  will  not  be  offended,  when  I  declare,  I  know 
not  which  of  you  two  I  should  be  the  sooner  jealous  of." 

"  1  would  by  no  means  have  you  jealous  of  any  one," 
cries  the  doctor;  "for  I  think  my  child's  virtue  may  be 
firmly  rehed  on  ;  but  I  am  convinced  she  would  not  have 
said  what  she  did  to  me  without  a  cause ;  nor  should  I, 
without  such  a  conviction,  have  written  that  letter  to 
S2 


412  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

the  colonel,  as  I  own  to  you  I  did.  However,  nothing  I 
say  has  yet  passed,  which,  even  in  the  opinion  of  fnlse 
honour,  you  are  at  liberty  to  resent ;  but  as  to  declining 
any  great  intimacy,  if  you  will  take  my  advice,  I  think 
that  would  be  prudent." 

"  You  will  pardon  me,  my  dearest  friend,"  said  Booth: 
"but  1  have  really  such  an  opinion  of  the  colonel,  that  I 
would  pawn  my  life  upon  his  honour;  and  as  for  wo- 
men, I  do  not  believe  he  ever  had  an  attachment  to  any." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  have  only  two  things 
to  insist  on ;  the  first  is,  that  if  ever  you  change  your 
opinion,  this  letter  may  not  be  the  subject  of  any  quar- 
relling or  fighting;  the  other  is,  that  you  never  mention 
a  word  of  this  to  your  wife.  By  the  latter,  I  shall  see 
Mhether  you  can  keep  a  secret;  and  if  it  is  no  otherwise 
material,  it  will  be  a  wholesome  exercise  to  your  mind; 
for  the  practice  of  any  virtue  is  a  kind  of  mental  exer- 
cise, and  serves  to  maintain  the  health  and  vigour  of  the 
soul." 

"I  faithfully  promise  both,"  cries  Booth.  And  now 
the  breakfast  entered  the  room,  as  did,  soon  after,  Ame- 
lia and  Mrs.  Atkinson. 

The  conversation  ran  chiefly  on  the  masquerade,  and 
Mrs.  Atkinson  gave  an  account  of  several  adventures 
there  ;  but  whether  she  told  the  whole  truth  with  regard 
to  herself,  I  will  not  determine;  for  certain  it  is,  she 
never  once  mentioned  the  name  of  the  noble  peer. 
Among  the  rest,  she  said  there  was  a  young  fellow  that 
had  preached  a  sermon  there  upon  a  stool,  in  praise  of 
adultery,  she  believed  ;  for  she  could  not  get  near  enough 
to  hear  the  particulars. 

During  that  transaction.  Booth  had  been  engaged  with 
the  blue  domino  in  another  room,  so  that  he  knew  noth- 
ing of  it ;  so  that  what  Mrs.  Atkinson  had  now  said, 
only  brought  to  his  mind  the  doctor's  letter  to  Colonel 
Bath,  for  to  him  he  supposed  it  was  written  ;  and  the 
idea  of  the  colonel's  being  a  lover  to  Amelia  struck  him  . 
in  so  ridiculous  a  light, that  it  threw  him  into  a  violent  fit 
of  laughter. 

The  doctor,  who,  from  the  natural  jealousy  of  an  au- 
thor, imputed  the  agitation  of  Booth's  muscles  to  his 
own  sermon,  or  letter,  on  that  subject,  was  a  little  of- 
fended, and  said,  gravely,  "  I  should  be  glad  to  know 
the  reason  of  this  immoderate  mirth.  Is  adultery  a 
matter  of  jest  in  your  opinion  ?"' 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  413 

"  Far  otherwise,"  answered  Booth :  "  but  how  is  it 
possible  to  refrain  from  laughter,  at  the  idea  of  a  fellow's 
preaching  a  sermon  in  favour  of  it  at  such  a  place  1" 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  to  find  the  age 
is  grown  to  so  scandalous  a  degree  of  licentiousness, 
that  we  have  thrown  off  not  only  virtue,  but  decency. 
How  abandoned  must  be  the  manners  of  any  nation, 
where  such  insults  upon  religion  and  morality  can  be 
committed  with  impunity !  No  man  is  fonder  of  true 
wit  and  humour  than  myself;  but  to  profane  sacred 
things  with  jest  and  scoffing,  is  a  sure  sign  of  a  weak 
and  a  wicked  mind.  It  is  the  very  vice  which  Homer 
attacks  in  the  odious  character  of  Thersites.  The  la- 
dies must  excuse  my  repeating  the  passage  to  you,  as  I 
know  you  have  Greek  enough  to  understand  it : — 

'  "Os  y  ETTca  (ppealv  ijffiv  aKOffjxd  rt  ttqWol  te  tjSr/, 
Mdip  anlp  oh  Kard  k6(Tijlov  epi^lfizvai  (iaciXcvOiv, 
'AXX'  0,  Ti  ol  eiaairo  yeXouov  'Apydotciv 

And  immediately  adds — 

^a'iaj^iffTos  it  avfjp  {itto  "iXiov  ^Xde.'i 

Horace  again  describes  such  a  rascal : — 

'  Solutos 
Qui  captat  risus  hominum,  famamque  dicacis  ;'t 

And  says  of  him, 

*  Hie  niger  est ;  hunc  tu,  Romane,  caveto.'  "^ 

"  Oh,  charming  Homer !"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson :  "  how 
much  above  all  other  writers  !" 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  madam,"  said  the  doctor  :  "  I  for- 
got you  was  a  scholar;  but,  indeed,  I  did  not  know  you 
understood  Greek  as  well  as  Latin." 

*  Thus  paraphrased  by  Mr.  Pope  : — 

"  Awed  by  no  shame,  by  no  respect  controll'd, 
In  scandal  busy,  in  reproaches  bold  : 
With  witty  malice,  studious  to  defame ; 
Scorn  all  his  joy,  and  laughter  all  his  aim." 
t  "  He  was  the  greatest  scoundrel  in  the  whole  army." 
X  "  Who  trivial  bursts  of  laughter  strives  to  raise, 

And  courts  of  prating  petulance  the  praise."— Francis. 
(}  "  This  man  is  black ;  do  thou,  oh  Roman !  shun  this  man." 
35* 


414  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  I  do  not  pretend,"  said  she,  "  to  be  a  critic  in  the 
Greek ;  but  I  think  I  am  able  to  read  a  little  of  Homer, 
at  least  with  the  help  of  looking  now  and  then  into  the 
Latin." 

"Pray,  madam,"  said  the  doctor,  "how  do  you  like 
this  passage  in  the  speech  of  Hector  to  Andromache  ]— 

*  £(?  oiKov  lov<T'i  Ta  aavrrjs  £pya  Koni^s, 
'lar(iv  r'  iiXuKdrrjv  rs,  Kai  iifi(piz6Xoi(7i  KiXtve 
"Epyov  i-ol^saOai.^*' 

Or,  how  do  you  like  the  character  of  Hippodamia,  who, 
by  being  the  prettiest  girl  and  best  workwoman  of  her 
age,  got  one  of  the  best  husbands  in  all  Troy  '  I  think, 
indeed,  Homer  enumerates  her  discretion  with  her  other 
qualifications ;  but  I  do  not  remember  he  gives  us  one 
character  of  a  woman  of  learning.  Don't  you  conceive 
this  to  be  a  great  omission  in  that  charming  poet  1  How- 
ever, Juvenal  makes  you  amends,  for  he  talks  very  abun- 
dantly of  the  learning  of  the  Roman  ladies  in  his  time." 

"  You  are  a  provoking  man,  doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Atkin- 
son :  "  where  is  the  harm  in  a  woman's  having  learning 
as  well  as  a  man  V 

"  Let  me  ask  you  another  question,"  said  the  doctor  : 
"  where  is  the  harm  in  a  man's  being  a  fine  performer 
with  a  needle  as  well  as  a  woman?  And  yet,  answer 
me  honestly  ;  would  you  greatly  choose  to  marry  a  man 
with  a  thimble  upon  his  finger  1  Would  you,  in  earnest, 
think  a  needle  became  the  hand  of  your  husband  as  well 
as  a  halberd  ?" 

"  As  to  war,  I  am  with  you,"  said  she  :  "  Homer  him- 
self, I  well  remember,  makes  Hector  tell  his  wife  that 
warlike  works — what  is  the  Greek  word  ]— Pollemy — 
something — belonged  to  men  only ;  and  I  readily  agree 
to  it.  I  hate  a  masculine  woman,  an  Amazon,  as  much 
as  you  can  do ;  but  what  is  there  masculine  in  learn- 
ing?" 

"  Nothing  so  masculine,  take  my  word  for  it.  As  for 
your  Pollemy,  I  look  upon  it  to  be  the  true  characteris- 
tic of  a  devil:  so  Homer  everywhere  characterizes 
Mars." 

"  Indeed,  my  dear,"  cries  the  sergeant,  "you  had  bet- 
ter not  dispute  with  the  doctor ;  for,  upon  my  word,  he 
will  be  too  hard  for  you." 

*  "  Go  home,  and  mind  your  own  business  :  follow  your  spinning, 
and  keep  your  maids  to  their  work." 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  415 

"  Nay,  I  beg  you  will  not  interfere,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkin- 
son :  "  I  am  sure  you  can  be  no  judge  in  these  matters." 

At  which  the  doctor  and  Booth  burst  into  a  lond 
laugh ;  and  Amelia,  though  fearful  of  giving  her  friend 
offence,  could  not  forbear  a  gentle  smile. 

"  You  may  laugh,  gentlemen,  if  you  please,"  said  Mrs. 
Atkinson  ;  "  but  1  thank  Heaven,  1  have  married  a  man 
who  is  not  jealous  of  my  understanding.  I  should  have 
been  the  most  miserable  woman  upon  earth  with  a 
starched  pedant,  who  was  possessed  of  that  nonsensical 
opinion,  that  the  difference  of  sexes  causes  any  differ- 
ence in  the  mind.  Why  don't  you  honestly  avow  the 
Turkish  notion,  tHat  women  have  no  souls  1  for  you  say 
the  same  thing  in  effect." 

"  Indeed,  my  dear,"  cries  the  sergeant,  greatly  con- 
cerned to  see  his  wife  so  angry,  "you  have  mistaken 
the  doctor." 

"  I  beg,  my  dear,"  cried  she,  "  you  will  say  nothing 
upon  these  subjects  :  I  hope  you  at  least  do  not  despise 
my  understandmg." 

"  I  assure  you  1  do  not,"  said  the  sergeant ;  "  and  I 
hope  you  will  never  despise  mine  ;  for  a  man  may  have 
some  understanding,  I  hope,  without  learning." 

Mrs.  Atkinson  reddened  extremely  at  these  words; 
and  the  doctor,  fearing  he  had  gone  too  far,  began  to 
soften  matters,  in  which  Amelia  assisted  him.  By  these 
means,  the  storm  rising  in  Mrs.  Atkinson  before,  was  in 
some  measure  laid,  at  least  suspended  from  bursting  at 
present ;  but  it  fell  afterward  upon  the  poor  sergeant's 
head  in  a  torrent,  who  had  learned  perhaps  one  maxim 
from  his  trade,  that  a  cannon  ball  always  does  mischief 
in  proportion  to  the  resistance  it  meets  with,  and  that 
nothing  so  effectually  deadens  its  force  as  a  woolpack. 
The  sergeant  therefore  bore  all  with  patience ;  and  the 
idea  of  a  woolpack,  perhaps,  bringing  that  of  a  feather- 
bed into  his  head,  he  at  last  not  only  quieted  his  wife, 
but  she  cried  out  with  great  sincerity,  "  Well,  my  dear, 
I  will  say  one  thing  for  you ;  that  I  believe  from  my 
soul,  though  you  have  no  learning,  you  have  the  best 
understanding  of  any  man  upon  earth  ;  and  I  must  own  I 
think  the  latter  far  the  more  profitable  of  the  two." 

Far  different  was  the  idea  she  entertained  of  the  doc- 
tor, whom,  from  this  day,  she  considered  as  a  conceited 
pedant ;  nor  could  all  Amelia's  endeavours  ever  alter  her 
sentiments. 


416  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

The  doctor  now  took  his  leave  of  Booth  and  his  wife 
for  a  week,  he  intending  to  set  out  within  an  hour  or 
two  with  his  old  friend,  with  whom  our  readers  were  a 
little  acquainted  at  the  latter  end  of  the  ninth  book,  and 
of  whom,  perhaps,  they  did  not  then  conceive  the  most 
favourable  opinion. 

Nay,  I  am  aware  that  the  esteem  which  some  readers 
before  had  for  the  doctor  may  be  here  lessened ;  since 
he  may  appear  to  have  been  too  easy  a  dupe  to  the  gross 
flattery  of  the  old  gentleman.  If  there  be  any  such 
critics,  we  are  heartily  sorry,  as  well  for  them  as  for  the 
doctor ;  but  it  is  our  business  to  discharge  the  part  of  a 
faithful  historian,  and  to  describe  human  nature  as  it  is, 
not  as  we  would  wish  it  to  be. 


Chapter  V. — In  which  Colonel  Bath  appears  in  great  glory. 

That  afternoon,  as  Booth  was  walking  in  the  Park,  he 
met  with  Colonel  Bath,  who  presently  asked  him  for  the 
letter  which  he  had  given  him  the  night  before  ;  upon 
which  Booth  immediately  returned  it. 

"  Don't  you  think,"  cries  Bath,  "  it  is  written  with 
great  dignity  of  expression,  and  emphasis  of— of — of 
judgment?" 

"  I  am  surprised,  though," cries  Booth,  "  that  anyone 
should  write  such  a  letter  to  you,  colonel." 

"  To  meV  said  Bath.  "  What  do  you  mean,  sir?  I 
hope  you  don't  imagine  any  man  durst  write  such  a  letter 
to  me  1  d — n  me,  if  I  knew  a  man  who  thought  me  capa- 
ble of  debauching  my  friend's  wife,  I  would — d — n  me — " 

"  I  believe,  indeed,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  "  that  no  man 
living  dares  put  his  name  to  such  a  letter ;  but  you  see 
it  is  anonymous." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  ominous,"  cries  the 
colonel ;  "  but  blast  my  reputation,  if  I  had  received  such 
a  letter,  if  I  would  not  have  searched  the  world  to  have 
found  the  writer.  D — n  me,  I  would  have  gone  to  the 
East  Indies  to  have  pulled  off  his  nose." 

"  He  would,  indeed,  have  deserved  it,"  cried  Booth. 
"  But,  pray,  sir,  how  came  you  by  it  ]" 

"  I  took  it,"  said  the  colonel,  "  from  a  set  of  idle  young 
rascals,  one  of  whom  was  reading  it  out  aloud  upon  a 
stool ;  while  the  rest  were  attempting  to  make  a  jest, 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  417 

not  only  of  the  letter,  but  of  all  decency,  virtue,  and  re- 
ligion ;  a  set  of  fellows  ♦hat  you  must  have  seen  or  heard 
of  about  town,  that  are,  d — n  me,  a  disgrace  to  the  dig- 
nity of  manhood;  puppies, that  mistake  noise  and  impu- 
dence, rudeness  and  profaneness,  for  wit.  If  the  drum- 
mers of  my  company  had  not  more  understanding  than 
twenty  such  fellows,  I'd  have  them  both  whipped  out  of 
the  regiment." 

"  So,  then,  you  do  not  know  the  person  to  whom  it  was 
written  V  said  Booth. 

"  Lieutenant,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  your  question  de- 
serves no  answer.  I  ought  to  take  time  to  consider 
whether  I  ought  not  to  resent  the  supposition.  Do  you 
think,  sir,  I  am  acquainted  with  a  rascalT' 

''I  do  not  suppose,  colonel,"  cries  Booth,  "that  you 
would  willingly  cultivate  an  intimacy  with  such  a  per- 
son ;  but  a  man  must  have  good  luck,  who  has  any  ac- 
quaintance, if  there  are  not  some  rascals  among  them." 

"  1  am  not  offended  with  you,  child,"  says  the  colonel ; 
"  I  know  you  did  not  intend  to  ofiend  me." 

"  No  man,  I  believe,  dares  intend  it,"  said  Booth. 

"  I  believe  so  too,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  d — n  me,  I 
know  it.  But  you  know,  child,  how  tender  I  am  on  this 
subject.  If  I  had  been  ever  married  myself,  I  should 
have  cleft  the  man's  scull  who  had  dared  look  wantonly 
at  my  wife." 

"  It  is  certainly  the  most  cruel  of  all  injuries,"  said 
Booth.  "  How  finely  does  Shakspeare  express  it  in  his 
Othello  ! 

"  '  But  there,  where  I  had  treasured  up  my  soul.' " 

"  That  Shakspeare,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  was  a  fine  fel- 
low ;  he  was  a  very  pretty  poet  indeed.  Was  it  not 
Shakspeare  that  wrote  the  play  about  Hotspur  1  You 
must  remember  these  lines  :  I  got  them  almost  by  heart 
at  the  playhouse  ;  for  I  never  missed  that  play  whenever 
it  was  acted,  if  I  was  in  town  : — 

'  By  Heaven,  it  was  an  easy  leap, 
To  pluck  bright  honour  into  the  full  moon, 
Or  drive  into  the  bottomless  deep.' 

And — and — faith,  I  have  almost  forgotten  them  ;  but  I 
know  it  is  something  about  saving  your  honour  from 
drowning — oh,  it  is  very  fine.  I  say,  d — n  me,  the  man 
that  wrote  those  lines  was  the  greatest  poet  the  world 
S3 


418  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

ever  produced.  There  is  dig-nity  of  expression  and  em- 
phasis of  thinking,  d — n  me." 

Booth  assented  to  the  colonel's  criticism,  and  then 
cried,  "  I  wish,  colonel,  you  would  be  so  kind  to  give  me 
that  letter."  The  colonel  answered,  if  he  had  any  par- 
ticular use  for  it,  he  would  give  it  him  with  all  his  heart, 
and  presently  dehvered  it;  and  soon  afterward  they 
parted. 

Several  passages  now  struck  all  at  once  upon  Booth's 
mind,  which  gave  him  great  uneasiness.  He  became 
confident  now  that  he  had  mistaken  one  colonel  for  an- 
other ;  and  though  he  could  not  account  for  the  letter's 
getting  into  those  hands  from  whom  Bath  had  taken  it, 
(indeed,  James  had  dropped  it  out  of  his  pocket,)  yet  a 
thousand  circumstances  left  him  no  room  to  doubt  the 
identity  of  the  person,  who  was  a  man  much  more  liable 
to  raise  the  suspicion  of  a  husband  than  honest  Bath, 
who  would,  at  any  time,  have  rather  fought  with  a  man 
than  lain  with  a  woman. 

The  whole  behaviour  of  Amelia  now  rushed  upon  his 
memory.  Her  resolution  not  to  take  up  her  residence 
at  the  colonel's  house,  her  backwardness  even  to  dine 
there,  her  unwillingness  to  go  to  the  masquerade,  many 
of  her  unguarded  expressions,  and  some  where  she  had 
been  more  guarded,  all  joined  together  to  raise  such  an 
idea  in  Mr.  Booth,  that  he  had  almost  taken  a  resolution 
to  go  and  cut  the  colonel  to  pieces  in  his  own  house. 
Cooler  thoughts,  however,  suggested  themselves  to  him 
in  time.  He  recollected  the  promise  he  had  so  solemnly 
made  to  the  doctor ;  he  considered,  moreover,  that  he 
was  yet  in  the  dark  as  to  the  extent  of  the  colonel's 
guilt.  Having  nothing,  therefore,  to  fear  from  it,  he 
contented  himself  to  postpone  a  resentment,  which  he 
nevertheless  resolved  to  take  of  the  colonel  hereafter,  if 
he  found  he  was  in  any  degree  a  delinquent. 

The  first  step  he  determined  to  take,  was  on  the  first 
opportunity  to  relate  to  Colonel  James  the  means  by 
which  he  became  possessed  of  the  letter,  and  to  read  it 
to  him  ;  on  which  occasion,  he  thought  he  should  easily 
discern,  by  the  behaviour  of  the  colonel,  whether  he 
had  been  suspected,  either  by  Amelia  or  the  doctor, 
without  a  cause;  but  as  for  his  wife,  he  fully  resolved 
not  to  reveal  the  secret  to  her  till  the  doctor's  return. 

While  Booth  was  deeply  engaged  by  himself  in  these 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  419 

meditations,  Captain  Trent  came  up  to  him,  and  famil- 
iarly slapped  him  on  the  shoulder. 

They  were  soon  joined  by  a  third  gentleman,  and 
presently  afterward  by  a  fourth,  both  acquaintances  of 
Mr.  Trent ;  and  all  having  walked  twice  the  length  of 
the  Mall  together,  it  being  now  past  nine  in  the  evening, 
Trent  proposed  going  to  the  tavern,  to  which  the  stran- 
gers immediately  consented ;  and  Booth  himself,  after 
some  resistance,  was  at  length  persuaded  to  comply. 

To  the  King's  Arms  then  they  went,  where  the  bottle 
went  very  briskly  round  till  after  eleven  ;  at  which  time 
Trent  proposed  a  game  at  cards,  to  which  proposal,  hke- 
wise,  Booth's  consent  was  obtained,  though  not  without 
much  difficulty ;  for  though  he  had  naturally  some  incli- 
nation to  gaming,  and  had  formerly  a  little  indulged  it, 
yet  he  had  entirely  left  it  off  for  many  years. 

Booth  and  his  friend  were  partners,  and  had  at  first 
some  success  ;  but  Fortune,  according  to  her  usual  con- 
duct, soon  shifted  about,  and  persecutedBooth  with  such 
malice,  that  in  about  two  hours  he  was  stripped  of  all 
the  gold  in  his  pocket,  which  amounted  to  twelve  guin- 
eas, being  more  than  half  the  cash  which  he  was  at  that 
time  worth. 

How  easy  it  is  for  a  man,  who  is  at  all  tainted  with 
the  itch  of  gaming,  to  leave  off  play  in  such  a  situation, 
especially  when  he  is  likewise  heated  with  liquor,  1 
leave  to  the  gamesters  to  determine.  Certain  it  is,  that 
Booth  had  no  inclination  to  desist;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, was  so  eagerly  bent  on  playing  on,  that  he  called 
his  friend  out  of  the  room,  and  asked  him  for  ten 
pieces,  which  he  promised  punctually  to  pay  the  next 
morning. 

Trent  chid  him  for  using  so  much  formality  on  the 
occasion.  "You  know,"  said  he,  "dear  Booth,  you 
may  have  what  money  you  please  of  me.  Here  is  a 
twenty  pound  note  at  your  service ;  and  if  you  want 
five  times  the  sum,  it  is  at  your  service.  We  will 
never  let  these  fellows  go  away  with  our  money  in  this 
manner ;  for  we  have  so  much  the  advantage,  that  if 
the  knowing  ones  were  here,  they  would  lay  odds  of 
our  side." 

But  if  this  was  really  Mr.  Trent's  opinion,  he  was 
very  much  mistaken  ;  for  the  other  two  honourable  gen- 
tlemen were  not  only  greater  masters  of  the  game,  and 
somewhat  soberer  than  poor  Booth,  having,  with  all  the 


420  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

art  in  their  power,  evaded  the  bottle ;  but  they  had, 
moreover,  another  small  advantage  over  their  adversa- 
ries ;  both  of  them,  by  means  of  some  certain  private 
signs,  previously  agreed  upon  betw^een  them,  being  al- 
ways acquainted  with  the  principal  cards  in  each  other's 
hands.  It  cannot  be  wondered,  therefore,  that  Fortune 
was  on  their  side  ;  for,  however  she  may  be  reported  to 
favour  fools,  she  never,  I  believe,  shows  them  any 
countenance  when  they  engage  in  play  with  knaves. 

The  more  Booth  lost,  tttfe  deeper  he  made  his  bets : 
the  consequence  of  which  was,  that  about  two  in  the 
morning,  besides  the  loss  of  his  own  money,  he  was  fifty 
pounds  indebted  to  Trent;  a  sum,  indeed,  which  he 
would  not  have  borrowed,  had  not  the  other,  like  a  very 
generous  friend,  pushed  it  upon  him. 

Trent's  pockets  became  at  last  dry  by  means  of  these 
loans.  His  own  loss,  indeed,  was  trifling;  for  the  stakes 
of  the  games  were  no  higher  than  crowns;  and  betting 
(as  it  is  called)  was  that  to  which  Booth  owed  his  ruin. 
The  gentlemen,  therefore,  pretty  well  knowing  Booth's 
circumstances,  and  being  kindly  unwilling  to  win  more 
of  a  man  than  he  was  worth,  declined  playing  any 
longer,  nor  did  Booth  once  ask  them  to  persist;  for  he 
was  ashamed  of  the  debt  which  he  had  already  con- 
tracted to  Trent,  and  very  far  from  desiring  to  in- 
crease it. 

The  company  then  separated.  The  two  victors  and 
Trent  went  oft'  in  their  chairs  to  their  several  houses 
near  Grosvenor  Square  ;  and  poor  Booth,  in  a  melan- 
choly mood,  walked  home  to  his  lodgings.  He  was, 
indeed,  in  such  a  fit  of  despair,  that  it  more  than  once 
came  into  his  head  to  put  an  end  to  his  miserable 
being. 

But,  before  we  introduce  him  to  Amelia,  we  must  do 
her  the  justice  to  relate  the  manner  in  which  she  spent 
this  unhappy  evening.  It  was  about  seven  when  Booth 
left  her  to  walk  in  the  Park;  from  this  time  till  past 
eight  she  was  employed  with  her  children,  in  playing 
with  them,  in  giving  them  their  supper,  and  in  putting 
them  to  bed. 

When  these  offices  were  performed,  she  employed 
herself  another  hour  in  cooking  up  a  little  supper  for  her 
husband,  this  being,  as  we  have  already  observed,  his  fa- 
vourite meal,  as,  indeed,  it  was  hers;  and  in  a  most 
pleasant  and  clelightful  manner  they  generally  passed 


i 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  421 

their  time  at  this  season,  though  their  fare  was  very  sel- 
dom of  the  sumptuous  kind. 

It  now  grew  dark,  and  her  hashed  mutton  was  ready 
for  the  table,  but  no  Booth  appeared. 

Having  waited,  therefore,  for  him  a  full  hour,  she  gave 
him  over  for  that  evening;  nor  was  she  much  alarmed 
at  his  absence,  as  she  knew  he  was,  in  a  night  or  two, 
to  be  at  the  tavern  with  some  brother  officers  ;  she  con- 
cluded, therefore,  that  they  had  m-et  in  the  Park,  and  had 
agreed  to  spend  this  evening  together. 

At  ten  then  she  sat  down  to  supper  by  herself ;  for 
Mrs.  Atkinson  was  then  abroad.  And  here  we  cannot 
help  relating  a  little  incident,  however  trivial  it  may 
appear  to  some.  Having  sat  some  time  alone,  reflecting 
on  their  distressed  situation,  her  spirits  grew  very  low ; 
and  she  was  once  or  twice  going  to  ring  the  bell  to  send 
her  maid  for  half  a  pint  of  white  wine,  but  checked  her 
inclination,  in  order  to  save  the  little  sum  of  sixpence; 
which  she  did  the  more  resolutely,  as  she  had  before  re- 
fused to  gratify  her  children  with  tarts  for  their  supper 
from  the  same  motive  :  and  this  self-denialshe  was  very 
probably  practising  to  save  sixpence,  while  her  husband 
was  paying  a  debt  of  several  guineas,  incurred  by  the 
ace  of  trumps  being  ni  the  hands  of  his  adversary! 

Instead,  therefore,  of  this  cordial,  she  took  up  one  of 
the  excellent  Farquhar's  comedies,  and  read  it  half 
through ;  when  the  clock  striking  twelve,  she  retired 
to  bed,  leaving  the  maid  to  sit  up  for  her  master.  She 
would,  indeed,  have  much  more  willingly  have  sat  up 
herself;  but  the  delicacy  of  her  own  mind  assured  her 
that  Booth  would  not  thank  her  for  the  compliment. 
This  is,  indeed,  a  method  which  some  wives  take  of  up- 
braiding their  husbands  for  staying  abroad  till  too  late  an 
hour,  and  of  engaging  them,  through  tenderness  and 
good-nature,  never  to  enjoy  the  compauy  of  their  friends 
too  long,  when  they  must  do  this  at  the  expense  of  their 
wives'  rest. 

To  bed  then  she  went,  but  not  to  sleep.  Thrice,  in- 
deed, she  told  the  dismal  clock,  and  as  often  heard  the 
more  dismal  watchman,  till  her  miserable  husband  found 
his  way  home,  and  stole  silently,  like  a  thief,  to  bed  to 
her ;  at  which  time,  pretending  then  first  to  awake,  she 
threw  her  snowy  arms  around  him  ;  though,  perhaps,  the 
more  witty  property  of  snow,  according  to  Addison,  that 
is  to  say,  its  coldness,  rather  belonged  to  the  poor  captain. 
36 


422  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 


Chapter  VI. — Read,  gamester,  and  observe. 

Booth  could  not  so  well  disguise  the  ag-itations  of  his 
mind  from  Amelia,  but  that  she  perceived  sufficient 
symptoms  to  assure  her  that  some  misfortune  had  be- 
fallen him.  This  made  her  in  her  turn  so  uneasy,  that 
Booth  took  notice  of  it,  and  after  breakfast  said,  '*  Sure, 
my  dear  Emily,  something  has  fallen  out  to  vex  you." 

Amelia,  looking  tenderly  at  him,  answered,  "  Indeed, 
my  dear,  you  are  in  the  right.  I  am,  indeed,  extremely 
vexed."  "  For  Heaven's  sake,"  said  he,  "  what  is  iti" 
"Nay,  my  love,"  cries  she,  "that  you  must  answer 
yourself.  Whatever  it  is  which  has  given  you  all  that 
disturbance  that  you  in  vain  endeavour  to  conceal  from 
me,  this  it  is  which  causes  all  my  affliction." 

"  You  guess  truly,  my  sweet,"  replied  Booth  :  "  I  am 
indeed  afflicted,  and  I  will  not,  nay,  I  cannot  conceal 
the  truth  from  you.     I  have  undone  myself,  Amelia." 

"  What  have  you  done,  child  1"  said  she,  in  some  con- 
sternation ;  "  pray,  tell  me." 

"  I  have  lost  my  money  at  play,"  answered  he. 

"Pugh!"  said  she,  recovering  herself,  "what  signi- 
fies the  trifle  you  had  in  your  pocket  T  Resolve  never 
to  play  again,  and  let  it  give  you  no  further  vexation. 
I  warrant  you,  we  will  contrive  some  method  to  repair 
such  a  loss." 

"  Thou  heavenly  angel,  thou  comfort  of  my  soul !" 
cried  Booth,  tenderly  embracing  her — then,  starting  a 
little  from  her  arms,  and  looking  with  eager  fondness  in 
her  eyes,  he  said,  "  Let  me  survey  thee  ;  art  thou  really 
human,  or  art  thou  not  rather  an  angel  in  a  human  form  1 
Oh,  no,"  cried  he,  fljnng  again  into  her  arms,  "  thou  art 
my  dearest  woman,  my  best,  my  beloved  wife  !" 

Amelia,  having  returned  all  his  caresses  with  equal 
kindness,  told  him  she  had  near  eleven  guineas  in  her 
purse,  and  asked  how  much  she  should  fetch  him.  "  I 
would  not  advise  you,  Billy,  to  carry  too  much  in  your 
pocket,  for  fear  it  should  be  a  temptation  to  you  to  re- 
turn to  gaming,  in  order  to  retrieve  your  past  losses. 
Let  me  beg  you,  on  all  accounts,  never  to  think  more,  if 


THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA.  423 

possible,  on  the  trifle  you  have  lost,  any  more  than  if 
you  had  never  possessed  it." 

Booth  promised  her  faithfully  he  never  would,  and 
refused  to  take  any  of  the  money.  He  then  hesitated  a 
moment,  and  cried — "  You  say,  my  dear,  you  have  eleven 
guineas  :  you  have  a  diamond  ring,  likewise,  which  was 
your  grandmother's;  I  believe  that  it  is  worth  twenty 
pounds ;  and  your  own  and  the  child's  watch  are  worth 
as  much  more." 

*'  I  believe  they  would  sell  for  as  much,"  cried  Ame- 
lia; "  for  a  pawnbroker  of  Mrs.  Atkinson's  acquaintance 
offered  to  lend  me  thirty-five  pounds  upon  them,  when 
you  was  in  your  last  distress.  But  why  are  you  compu- 
ting their  value  now  1" 

"  I  was  only  considering,"  answered  he,  "  how  much 
we  could  raise  in  any  case  of  exigency." 

"  I  have  computed  it  myself,"  said  she ;  "  and  I  be- 
lieve all  we  have  in  the  world,  besides  our  bare  neces- 
sary apparel,  would  produce  about  sixty  pounds :  and 
suppose,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "while  we  have  that  Httle 
sum,  we  should  think  of  employing  it  some  way  or  other, 
to  procure  some  small  subsistence  for  ourselves  and  our 
family.  As  for  your  dependance  on  the  colonel's  friend- 
ship, it  is  all  vain,  I  am  afraid,  and  fallacious :  nor  do  I 
see  any  hopes  you  have  from  any  other  quarter  of  pro- 
viding for  yourself  again  in  the  army  :  and  though  the 
sum  which  is  now  in  your  power  is  very  small,  yet  we 
may  possibly  contrive  with  it  to  put  ourselves  into  some 
mean  way  of  livelihood.  I  have  a  heart,  my  Billy, 
which  is  capable  of  undergoing  anything  for  your  sake ; 
and  I  hope  my  hands  are  as  able  to  work  as  those  which 
have  been  more  inured  to  it.  But  think,  my  dear,  think 
what  must  be  our  wretched  condition  when  the  very 
little  we  now  have  is  all  mouldered  away,  as  it  will 
soon  be  in  this  town." 

When  poor  Booth  heard  this,  and  reflected  that  the 
time  which  Amelia  foresaw  was  already  arrived,  for  that 
he  had  already  lost  every  farthing  they  were  worth,  it 
touched  him  to  the  quick  :  he  turned  pale,  gnashed  his 
teeth,  and  cried  out,  "  Damnation  !  this  is  too  much  to 
bear." 

Amelia  was  thrown  into  the  utmost  consternation  by 
this  behaviour ;  and,  with  great  terror  in  her  counte- 
nance, cried  out,  "  Good  heavens !  my  dear  love,  what 
is  the  reason  of  this  agony  ]" 


424  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  Ask  me  no  questions,"  cried  he,  "  unless  you  would 
drive  me  to  madness." 

*'  My  Billy !  my  love !"  said  she,  "  what  can  be  the 
meaning  of  this  ]  1  beg  you  will  deal  openly  with  me, 
and  tell  me  all  your  griefs." 

"  Have  you  dealt  fairly  with  me,  Amelia  1"  said  he. 

"  Yes,  surely,"  said  she ;  "  Heaven  is  my  witness, 
how  fairly." 

*'  Nay,  do  not  call  Heaven,"  cried  he,  "  to  witness  a 
falsehood.  You  have  not  dealt  openly  with  me,  Amelia. 
You  have  concealed  secrets  from  me  :  secrets  which  I 
ought  to  have  known,  and  which,  if  1  had  known,  it  had 
been  better  for  us  both." 

*'  You  astonish  me  as  much  as  you  shock  me,"  cried 
she :  "  What  falsehood,  what  treachery  have  I  been 
guilty  ofl" 

"  You  tell  me,"  said  he,  "  that  I  can  have  no  reliance 
on  James  ;  why  did  not  you  tell  me  so  before  ?" 

"  1  call  Heaven  again,"  said  she,  "  to  witness,  nay,  I 
appeal  to  yourself  for  the  truth  of  it,  1  have  often  told 
you  so.  I  have  told  you  I  dislike  the  man,  notwith- 
standing the  many  favours  he  had  done  you.  I  desired 
you  not  to  have  too  absolute  a  reliance  upon  him.  I 
own  I  had  once  an  extreme  good  opinion  of  him,  but  I 
changed  it,  and  I  acquainted  you  that  I  had  so." 

"  But  not,"  cries  he,  "  with  the  reasons  why  you  had 
changed  it." 

"  I  was  really  afraid,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  of  going 
too  far.  I  knew  the  obligations  you  had  to  him  ;  and  if 
I  suspected  that  he  acted  rather  from  vanity  than  true 
friendship — " 

"  Vanity !"  cries  he  ;  "  take  care,  Amelia  :  you  know 
his  motive  to  be  much  worse  than  vanity;  a  motive, 
which,  if  he  had  piled  obligations  on  me  till  they  had 
reached  the  skies,  would  tumble  all  down  into  hell.  It 
is  in  vain  to  conceal  it  longer — I  know  all — your  confi- 
dant has  told  me  all." 

"  Nay,  then,"  cries  she,  "  on  my  knees  I  entreat  you 
to  be  pacified,  and  hear  me  out.  It  was,  my  dear,  for 
you;  my  dread  of  your  jealous  honour,  and  the  fatal 
consequences." 

"  Is  not  Amelia,  then,"  cried  he,  "  equally  jealous  of 
my  honour  1  Would  she,  from  a  weak  tenderness  for 
my  person,  go  privately  about  to  betray,  to  undermine 
the  most  invaluable  treasure  of  my  soul  1    Would  she 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  425 

have  me  pointed  at  as  the  credulous  dupe,  the  easy  fool, 
the  tame,  the  kind  cuckold  of  a  rascal,  with  whom  I  con- 
versed as  a  friend  1" 

"  Indeed  you  injure  me,"  said  Amelia,  "  Heaven  for- 
bid 1  should  have  the  trial ;  but  I  think  I  could  sacrifice 
all  I  hold  most  dear  to  preserve  your  honour.  I  think 
I  have  shown  I  can.  But  I  will — when  you  are  cool, 
T  will — satisfy  you  I  have  done  nothing  you  ought  to 
blame." 

"  I  am  cool,  then,"  cries  he  ;  "  I  will  with  the  greatest 
coolness  hear  you.  But  do  not  think,  Amelia,  I  have 
the  least  jealousy,  the  least  suspicion,  the  least  doubt  of 
your  honour.  It  is  your  want  of  confidence  in  me  alone 
which  I  blame." 

"  When  you  are  calm,"  cried  she,  "I  will  speak,  and 
not  before." 

He  assured  her  he  was  calm,  and  then  she  said,  "  You 
have  justified  my  conduct  by  your  present  passion,  in 
concealing  from  you  my  suspicions  ;  for  they  were  no 
more ;  nay,  it  is  possible  they  were  unjust ;  for  since 
the  doctor,  in  betraying  the  secret  to  you,  has  so  far  fal- 
sified  my  opinion  of  him,  why  may  1  not  be  as  well  de- 
ceived in  my  opinion  of  the  colonel?  since  it  was  only 
formed  on  some  particulars  in  his  behaviour  which  I 
disliked;  for,  upon  my  honour,  he  never  spoke  a  word 
to  me,  nor  has  ever  been  guilty  of  any  direct  action 
which  I  could  blame."  She  then  went  on,  and  related 
most  of  the  circumstances  which  she  had  mentioned  to 
the  doctor,  omitting  one  or  two  of  the  strongest,  and 
giving  such  a  turn  to  the  rest,  that  if  Booth  had  not  had 
some  of  Othello's  blood  in  him,  his  wife  would  have 
almost  appeared  a  prude  in  his  eyes.  Even  he,  however, 
was  pretty  well  pacified  by  this  narrative,  and  said  he 
was  glad  to  find  a  possibility  of  the  colonel's  innocence  ; 
but  that  he  greatly  commended  the  prudence  of  his  wife, 
and  only  wished  she  would,  for  the  future,  make  him  her 
only  confidant. 

Amelia,  upon  that,  expressed  some  bitterness  against 
the  doctor  for  breaking  his  trust ;  when  Booth,  in  his 
excuse,  related  all  the  circumstances  of  the  letter,  and 
plainly  convinced  her  that  the  secret  had  dropped  by 
mere  accident  from  the  mouth  of  the  doctor. 

Thus  the  husband  and  wife  became  again  reconciled ; 
and  poor  Ameha  generously  forgave  a  passion,  of  which 
36* 


426  THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA. 

the  sagacious  reader  is  better  acquainted  with  the  real 
cause  than  was  that  unhappy  lady. 


Chapter  VII. — In  which  Booth  receives  a  visit  from  Captain 
Trent. 

When  Booth  grew  perfectly  cool,  and  began  to  reflect 
that  he  had  broken  his  word  to  the  doctor,  in  having  made 
the  discovery  to  his  wife  which  we  have  seen  in  the  last 
chapter,  that  thought  gave  him  great  uneasiness ;  and 
now,  to  comfort  him.  Captain  Trent  came  to  make  him 
a  visit. 

This  was,  indeed,  almost  the  last  man  in  the  world 
whose  company  he  wished  for;  for  he  was  the  only  man 
he  was  ashamed  to  see,  for  a  reason  well  known  to 
gamesters;  among  whom,  the  most  dishonourable  of  all 
things  is  not  to  pay  a  debt  contracted  at  the  gaming- 
table the  next  day,  or  the  next  time  at  least  that  you 
see  the  party. 

Booth  made  no  doubt  but  that  Trent  was  come  on  pur- 
pose to  receive  this  debt.  The  latter  had  been,  there- 
fore, scarce  a  minute  in  the  room,  before  Booth  began 
in  an  awkward  manner  to  apologize  ;  but  Trent  imme- 
diately stopped  his  mouth,  and  said,  "  I  do  not  want  the 
money,  Mr.  Booth,  and  you  may  pay  it  whenever  you 
are  able  ;  and  if  you  are  never  able,  I  assure  you  1  will 
never  ask  j^ou  for  it." 

This  generosit)'^  raised  such  a  tempest  of  gratitude  in 
Booth,  (if  I  may  be  allow^ed  the  expression,)  that  the 
tears  burst  from  his  eyes,  and  it  was  some  time  before 
he  could  find  any  utterance  for  those  sentiments  with 
which  his  mind  overflowed  ;  but  when  he  began  to  ex- 
press his  thankfulness  Trent  immediately  stopped  him, 
and  gave  a  sudden  turn  to  their  discourse. 

Mrs.  Trent  had  been  to  visit  Mrs.  Booth  on  the  mas- 
querade evening,  which  visit  Mrs.  Booth  had  not  yet 
returned.  Indeed,  this  was  only  the  second  day  since 
she  had  received  it ;  Trent,  therefore,  now  told  his 
friend  that  he  should  take  it  extremely  kind  if  he  and 
his  lady  would  waive  all  ceremony,  and  sup  at  their 
house  the  next  evening.  Booth  hesitated  a  moment; 
but  presently  said,  "  I  am  pretty  certain  my  wife  is  not 
engaged,  and  I  will  undertake  for  her.    I  am  sure  she 


THE    HISTORY   OP   AMELIA.  427 

will  not  refuse  anything  Mr.  Trent  can  ask."    And  soon 
after  Trent  took  Booth  with  him  to  walk  in  the  Park. 

There  were  few  greater  lovers  of  a  bottle  than  Trent; 
lie  soon  proposed,  therefore,  to  adjourn  to  the  King's 
Arms  Tavern,  where  Booth,  though  much  against  his 
inclination,  accompanied  him ;  but  Trent  was  very  im- 
portunate ;  and  Booth  did  not  think  himself  at  liberty  to 
refuse  such  a  request  to  a  man  from  Avhom  he  had  so 
lately  received  such  obligations. 

When  they  came  to  the  tavern,  however,  Booth  recol- 
lected the  omission  he  had  been  guilty  of  the  night 
before;  he  wrote  a  short  note,  therefore,  to  his  wife, 
acquainting  her  that  he  should  not  come  home  to  sup- 
per ;  but  comforted  her  with  a  faithful  promise  that  he 
would  on  no  account  engage  himself  in  gaming. 

The  first  bottle  passed  in  ordinary  conversation  ;  but 
when  they  had  tapped  the  second.  Booth,  on  some  hints 
which  Trent  gave' him,  very  fairly  laid  open  to  him  his 
whole  circumstances,  and  declared  he  almost  despaired 
of  mending  them.  "  My  chief  relief,"  said  he,  *'  was  in 
the  interest  of  Colonel  James;  but  I  have  given  up  those 
hopes." 

^'  And  very  wisely,  too,"  said  Trent.  *'  I  say  nothing 
of  the  colonel's  good- will :  very  likely  he  may  he  your 
sincere  friend :  but  I  do  not  believe  he  has  the  interest 
he  pretends  to.  He  has  had  too  many  favours  in  his 
own  family  to  ask  any  more  yet  a  while-  But  1  am  mis- 
taken if  you  have  not  a  much  more  powerful  friend  than 
the  colonel ;  one  who  is  both  able  and  willing  to  serve 
you.  I  dined  at  his  table  within  these  two  days,  and  I 
never  heard  kinder  nor  warmer  expressions  from  the 
mouth  of  man  than  he  made  use  of  towards  you.  I 
make  no  doubt  you  know  whom  I  mean." 

"  Upon  my  honour  I  do  not,"  answered  Booth ;  "  nor 
did  I  guess  that  I  had  such  a  friend  in  the  world  as  you 
mention." 

"  I  am  glad,  then,"  cries  Trent,  "  that  I  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  informing  you  of  it."  He  then  named  the  noble 
peer,  who  has  been  already  so  often  mentioned  in  this 
history. 

Booth  turned  pale,  and  started  at  his  name.     "  I  for- 
give you,  my  dear  Trent,"  cries  Booth,  "for  mentioning 
his  name  to  me,  as  you  are  a  stranger  to  what  has  passed 
between  us." 
"  Nay,  I  know  nothing  that  has  passed  between  you," 


428  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

answered  Trent.  "  I  am  sure,  if  there  is  any  quarrel 
between  you  of  two  days'  standing,  all  is  forgiven  on  his 
part." 

"  D— n  his  forgiveness,"  said  Booth :  "  perhaps  I  ought 
to  blush  at  what  I  have  forgiven." 

"  You  surprise  me,"  cries  Trent :  "  pray,  what  can  be 
the  matter?" 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  Trent,"  crieS  Booth,  very  gravely, 
"he  would  have  injured  me  in  the  tenderest  part.  1  know 
not  how  to  tell  it  you ;  but  he  would  have  dishonoured 
me  with  my  wife." 

"  Sure  you  are  not  in  earnest  V  answered  Trent ;  "  but 
if  you  are,  you  will  pardon  me  for  thinking  that  irapos- 
sible." 

"  Indeed,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  have  so  good  an  opinion  of 
my  wife  as  to  believe  it  impossible  for  him  to  succeed ; 
but,  that  he  should  intend  me  the  favour,  you  will  not^  I 
believe,  think  an  impossibility." 

"  Faith  I  not  in  the  least,"  said  Trent ;  "  Mrs.  Booth 
is  a  very  fine  woman  ;  and,  if  I  had  the  honour  to  be  her 
husband,  I  should  not  be  angry  with  any  man  for  liking 
her." 

"  But  you  would  be  angry,"  said  Booth,  "  with  a  man 
who  should  make  use  of  stratagems  and  contrivances  to 
seduce  her  virtue  :  especially  if  be  did  this  under  the 
colour  of  entertaining  the  highest  friendship  for  your- 
self." 

"  Not  at  all,"  cries  Trent,  "  it  is  human  nature." 

"  Perhaps  it  is,"  cries  Booth  ;  "but  it  is  human  nature 
depraved,  stripped  of  all  its  worth,  and  loveliness,  and 
dignity,  and  degraded  down  to  a  level  with  the  vilest 
brutes." 

"  Look  ye,  Booth,"  cries  Trent,  "  I  would  not  be  mis- 
understood. 1  think,  when  I  am  talking  to  you,  I  talk 
to  a  man  of  sense,  and  to  an  inhabitant  of  this  country; 
not  to  one  who  dwells  in  a  land  of  saints.  If  you  have 
really  such  an  opinion  as  you  express  of  this  noble  lord, 
you  have  the  finest  opportunity  of  making  a  complete 
fool  and  bubble  of  him  that  any  man  can  desire,  and  of 
making  your  own  fortune  at  the  same  time.  I  do  not 
say  that  your  suspicions  are  groundless;  for  of  all  men 
upon  earth,  I  know  my  lord  is  the  greatest  bubble  to 
women,  though  I  believe  he  has  had  very  few :  and  this 
I  am  confident  of,  that  he  has  not  the  least  jealousy  of 
these  suspicions.     Now,  therefore,  if  you  will  act  the 


THE    HISTORY   OP   AMELIA.  429 

pari  of  a  wise  man,  I  will  undertake  that  you  shall  make 
your  fortune  without  the  least  injury  to  the  chastity  of 
Mrs.  Booth." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  sir,"  said  Booth. 

"  Nay,"  cries  Trent,  "  if  you  will  not  understand  me, 
I  have  done.  I  tneant  only  your  service ;  and  I  thought 
I  had  known  you  better." 

Booth  begged  him  to  explain  himself.  "  If  you  can," 
said  he,  "  show  me  any  way  to  improve  such  circum- 
stances as  I  have  opened  to  you,  you  may  depend  on  it,  I 
shall  readily  embrace  it,  and  own  my  obligations  to  you." 

*'  That  is  spoken  like  a  man,"  cries  Trent.  "  Why, 
what  is  it  more  than  this  ?  Carry  your  suspicions  in 
your  own  bosom.  Let  Mrs.  Booth,  in  whose  virtue  I 
am  sure  you  may  be  justly  confident,  go  to  the  public 
places  ;  there  let  her  treat  my  lord  with  common  civility 
only;  I  am  sure  he  will  bite  ;  and  thus,  without  suffering 
him  to  gain  his  purpose,  you  will  gain  yours.  1  know 
several  who  have  succeeded  with  him  in  this  manner." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  sir,"  cries  Booth,  "  that  you  are  ac- 
quaintedwith  any  such  rascals.  I  do  assure  you,  rather 
than  I  would  act  such  a  part,  I  would  submit  to  the  hard- 
iest sentence  that  fortune  could  pronounce  against  me." 

^'  Do  as  you  please,  sir,"  said  Trent :  "  I  have  only 
ventured  to  advise  you  as  a  friend.  But  do  you  not 
think  that  your  nicety  is  a  little  over-scrupulous  V 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Booth ;  "  but  I  think 
no  man  can  be  too  scrupulous  in  points  which  concern 
his  honour." 

^'I  know  many  men  of  very  nice  honour,"  answered 
Trent,  "who  have  gone  much  further;  and  no  man,  I 
am  sure,  had  ever  a  better  excuse  for  it  than  yourself. 
You  will  forgive  me,  Booth,  since  what  I  speak  pro- 
ceeds from  my  love  to  you;  nay,  indeed,  by  mentioning 
your  affairs  to  me,  which  I  am  heartily  sorry  for,  you 
have  given  me  a  right  to  speak.  You  know  best  what 
friends  you  have  to  depend  upon ;  but  if  you  have  no 
other  pretensions  than  your  merit,  I  can  assure  you  you 
would  fail,  if  it  was  possible  you  could  have  ten  times 
more  merit  than  you  have :  and  if  you  love  your  wife, 
as  I  am  convinced  you  do,  what  must  be  your  condition 
in  seeing  her  want  the  necessaries  of  life  ?" 

"  I  know  my  condition  is  very  hard,"  cries  Booth ; 
"  but  I  have  one  comfort  in  it  which  I  will  never  part 
withj  and  that  is— innocence.    As  to  the  mere  necessa- 


430  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

ries  of  life,  however,  it  is  pretty  difficult  to  deprive  us 
of  them  ;  this  I  am  sure  of,  no  one  can  want  them  long." 

"  Upon  my  word,  sir,"  cries  Trent,  "  I  did  not  know 
you  had  been  so  great  a  philosopher;  but,  believe  me, 
these  matters  look  much  less  terrible  at  a  distance  than 
when  they  are  actually  present :  you  will  then  find,  I 
am  afraid,  that  honour  has  no  more  skill  in  cookery 
than  Shakspeare  tells  us  it  has  in  surgery.  D — n  me, 
if  I  don't  wish  his  lordship  loved  my  wife  as  well  as  he 
does  )^ours  ;  I  promise  you  1  would  trust  her  virtue  ;  and, 
if  he  should  get  the  better  of  it,  I  should  have  people  of 
fashion  enough  to  keep  me  in  countenance." 

Their  second  bottle  being  now  almost  out,  Booth, 
without  making  any  answer,  called  for  a  bill.  Trent 
pressed  very  much  the  drinking  of  another  bottle ;  but 
Booth  absolutely  refused,  and  presently  afterward  they 
parted,  not  extremely  well  satisfied  with  each  other. 
They  appeared,  indeed,  one  to  the  other  in  disadvanta- 
geous lights  of  a  very  different  kind  :  Trent  concluded 
Booth  to  be  a  very  silly  fellow ;  and  Booth  began  to 
suspect  that  Trent  was  very  little  better  than  a  scoun- 
drel. 


Chapter  VIII.— Contains  a  letter,  and  other  matters. 

We  will  now  return  to  Amelia;  to  whom,  immedi- 
ately upon  her  husband's  departure  to  walk  with  Mr. 
Trent,  a  porter  brought  the  following  letter  ;  which  she 
immediately  opened  and  read : — 

"  Madam, 
"  The  quick  despatch  which  I  have  given  to  your  first  commands 
will,  I  hope,  assure  you  of  the  diligence  with  which  I  shall  always 
obey  every  command  that  you  are  pleased  to  honour  me  with.  I 
have,  indeed,  in  this  trilling  affair,  acted  as  if  my  life  itself  had  been 
at  stake  ;  nay,  I  know  not  but  it  may  be  so ;  for  this  insignificant 
matter,  you  was  pleased  to  tell  me,  would  oblige  the  charming  per- 
son, in  whose  power  is  not  only  my  happiness,  but,  as  I  am  weU  per- 
suaded, my  life  too.  Let  me  reap,  therefore,  some  little  advantage 
in  your  eyes,  as  you  have  in  mine,  from  this  trilling  occasion  ;  for  if 
anything  could  add  to  the  charms  of  which  you  are  mistress,  it  would 
be,  perhaps,  that  amiable  zeal  with  which  you  maintain  the  cause  of 
your  friend.  I  hope,  indeed,  she  will  be  my  friend  and  advocate  with 
the  most  lovely  of  her  sex ;  as  I  think  she  has  reason,  and  as  you 
was  pleased  to  insinuate  she  had  been.    Let  me  beseech  you,  madam 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  431 

—let  not  that  dear  heart,  whose  tenderness  is  so  inclined  tocompas* 
Bionate  the  miseries  of  others,  be  hardened  only  against  the  suffer* 
ings  which  itself  occasions.  Let  not  that  man  alone  have  reason  to 
think  you  cruel,  who,  of  all  others,  would  do  the  most  to  procure 
your  kindness.  How  often  have  I  lived  over  in  my  reflections,  in  my 
dreams,  those  two  short  minutes  we  were  together  !  But,  alas, 
how  faint  are  these  mimicries  of  the  imagination!  What  would  I 
not  give  to  purchase  the  reality  of  such  another  blessmg !  This, 
madam,  is  in  your  power  to  bestow  on  the  man,  who  has  no  wish, 
no  will,  no  fortune,  no  heart,  no  life,  but  what  are  at  your  disposal. 

Grant  me  only  the  favour  to  be  at*  Lady 's  assembly.     You  can 

have  nothmg  to  fear  from  indulging  me  with  a  moment's  sight,  a  mo- 
ment's conversation  ;  I  will  ask  no  more.  I  know  your  delicacy,  and 
had  rather  die  than  offend  it.  Could  I  have  seen  you  sometunes,  I 
believe  the  fear  of  offendmg  you  would  have  kept  my  love  for  ever 
buried  in  my  own  bosom  ;  but  to  be  totally  excluded,  even  from  the 
sight  of  what  my  soul  dotes  on,  is  what  I  cannot  bear.  It  is  that 
alone  which  has  extorted  the  fatal  secret  from  me  :  let  that  obtain 
your  forgiveness  for  me.  I  need  not  sign  this  letter,  otherwise  than 
with  that  impression  of  my  heart  which  I  hope  it  bears  ;  and,  to  con- 
clude It  in  any  form,  no  language  has  words  of  devotion  strong 
enough  to  tell  you  with  what  truth,  what  anguish,  what  zeal,  what 
adoration,  I  love  you." 

Amelia  had  just  strength  to  hold  out  to  the  end,  when 
her  trembling  grew  so  violent,  that  she  dropped  the  let- 
ter, and  had  probably  dropped  herself,  had  not  Mrs. 
Atkinson  come  timely  in  to  support  her. 

"  Good  heavens !"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  what  is  the 
matter  with  you,  madam  V 

"  I  know  not  what  is  the  matter,"  cries  Amelia  ;  "  but 
T  have  received  a  letter  at  last  from  that  infamous  col- 
onel." 

"  You  will  take  my  opinion  again,  then,  I  hope,  mad- 
am," cries  Mrs.  Atkinson:  "but  don't  be  so  affected; 
the  letter  cannot  eat  you,  or  run  away  with  you.  Here 
it  lies,  I  see :  will  you  give  me  leave  to  read  it  V 

"  Read  it  with  all  my  heart,"  cries  Amelia,  '*  and  give 
me  your  advice  how  to  act ;  for  I  am  almost  distracted." 

"  Heyday !"  says  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  here  is  a  piece  of 
parchment  too  !  What  is  that?"  In  truth  this  parch- 
ment had  dropped  from  the  letter  when  Amelia  first 
opened  it ;  but  her  attention  was  so  fixed  by  the  con- 
tents of  the  letter  itself,  that  she  had  never  read  the  other. 
Mrs.  Atkinson  had  now  opened  the  parchment  first ;  and 
after  a  moment's  perusal,  the  fire  flashed  from  her  eyes, 
and  the  blood  flushed  into  her  cheeks  ;  and  she  cried 
out,  in  a  rapture,  "It  is  a  commission  for  my  husband! 
Upon  my  soul,  it  is  a  commission  for  my  husband !"  and 


432  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

at  the  same  time  began  to  jump  about  the  room  in  a  kind 
of  frantic  fit  of  joy. 

"  What  can  be  the  meaning  of  all  this  V  cries  Amelia, 
under  the  highest  degree  of  astonishment. 

"  Do  not  1  tell  you,  my  dear  madam,"  cries  she,  "that 
it  is  a  commission  for  my  husband  1  And  can  you  won- 
der at  my  being  overjoyed  at  what  I  know  will  make 
him  so  happy  ?  And  now  it  is  all  out.  The  letter  is 
not  from  the  colonel,  but  from  that  noble  lord  of  whom 
I  have  told  you  so  much.  But,  indeed,  madam,  I  have 
some  pardons  to  ask  of  you.  However,  I  know  your 
goodness,  and  I  will  tell  you  alL 

"  You  are  to  know  then,  madam,  that  I  had  not  been 
in  the  opera-house  six  minutes  before  a  mask  came  up, 
and,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  led  me  aside.  I  gave  the 
mask  my  hand  ;  and  seeing  a  lady  at  that  time  lay  hold 
on  Captain  Booth,  I  took  that  opportunity  of  slipping 
away  from  him  ;  for  though  by  the  help  of  the  squeak- 
ing voice,  and  by  attempting  to  mimic  yours,  I  had  pretty 
well  disguised  my  own,  1  was  still  afraid,  if  I  had  much 
conversation  with  your  husband,  he  would  discover  me. 
1  walked  therefore  away  with  this  mask  to  the  upper 
end  of  the  farthest  room,  where  we  sat  down  in  a  corner 
together.  He  presently  discovered  to  me  that  he  took 
me  for  you ;  and  I  soon  after  found  out  who  he  was  : 
indeed,  so  far  from  attempting  to  disguise  himself,  he 
spoke  in  his  own  voice,  and  in  his  own  person.  He  now 
began  to  make  very  violent  love  to  me  ;  but  it  was  rather 
in  the  style  of  a  great  man  of  the  present  age,  than  of 
an  Arcadian  swain :  in  short,  he  laid  his  whole  fortune 
at  my  feet,  and  bade  me  make  whatever  terms  I  pleased^ 
either  for  myself  or  for  others  :  by  others,  1  suppose  he 
meant  your  husband.  This,  however,  put  a  thought  into 
my  head  of  turning  the  present  occasion  to  advantage. 
1  told  him  there  were  two  kinds  of  persons,  the  falla- 
ciousness of  whose  promises  had  become  proverbial  in 
the  world  :  these  were  lovers  and  great  men.  What  re- 
liance, then,  could  I  have  on  the  promise  of  one  who 
united  in  himself  both  those  characters  1  That  I  had 
seen  a  melancholy  instance,  in  a  very  worthy  woman 
of  my  acquaintance,  (meaning  myself,  madam,)  of  his 
want  of  generosity.  I  said  I  knew  the  obligations  that 
he  had  to  this  woman,  and  the  injuries  he  had  done  her ; 
all  which  I  was  convinced  she  forgave,  for  that  she  had 
said  the  handsomest  things  in  the  world  of  him  to  me> 


THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA.  433 

He  answered,  that  he  thought  he  had  not  been  deficient 
in  generosity  to  this  lady ;  (for  I  explained  to  him  whom 
I  meant;)  but  that  indeed  if  she  had  spoken  well  of 
him  to  me,  (meaning  yourself,  madam,)  he  would  not 
fail  to  reward  her  for  such  an  obligation.  I  then  lold 
him  she  had  married  a  very  deserving  man,  who  had 
served  long  in  the  army  abroad  as  a  private  man,  and 
who  was  a  sergeant  in  the  guards  ;  that  I  knew  it  was  so 
very  easy  for  him  to  get  him  a  commission,  that  I  should 
not  think  he  had  any  honour  or  goodness  in  the  world 
if  he  neglected  it.  1  declared  this  step  must  be  a  pre- 
liminary to  any  good  opinion  he  must  ever  hope  for  of 
mine.  I  then  professed  the  greatest  friendship  to  that 
lady,  in  which  I  am  convinced  you  will  think  me  serious  ; 
and  assured  him  he  would  give  me  one  of  the  highest 
pleasures  in  letting  me  be  the  instrument  of  doing  her 
such  a  service.  He  promised  me  in  a  moment  to  do 
what  you  see,  madam,  he  has  since  done  ;  and  to  you  I 
shall  always  think  myself  indebted  for  it." 

"  I  know  not  how  you  are  indebted  to  me,"  cries 
Amelia.  "  Indeed,  I  am  very  glad  of  any  good  fortune 
that  can  attend  poor  Atkinson  ;  but  I  wish  it  had  been 
obtained  some  other  way.  Good  heavens  !  what  must 
be  the  consequence  of  this  1  What  must  this  lord  think 
of  me  for  listening  to  his  mention  of  love ;  nay,  for 
making  any  terms  with  him  1  for  what  must  he  suppose 
those  terms  mean  1  Indeed,  Mrs.  Atkinson,  you  car- 
ried it  a  great  deal  too  far.  No  wonder  he  had  the  as- 
surance to  write  to  me  in  the  manner  he  has  done.  It 
is  too  plain  what  he  conceives  of  me,  and  who  knows 
what  he  may  say  to  others  1  You  may  have  blown  up 
my  reputation  by  your  behaviour." 

*'  How  is  that  possible  1"  answered  Mrs.  Atkinson. 
"Is  it  not  in  my  power  to  clear  up  all  matters'?  If 
you  will  but  give  me  leave  to  make  an  appointment  in 
your  name,  I  will  meet  him  myself,  and  declare  the 
whole  secret  to  him." 

"  I  will  consent  to  no  such  appointment,"  cries  Ame-1 
lia.  "  I  am  heartily  sorry  I  ever  consented  to  practise! 
any  deceit.  I  plainly  see  the  truth  of  what  Dr.  Har-j 
rison  has  often  told  me  :  that  if  one  steps  ever  so  little  I 
out  of  the  ways  of  virtue  and  innocence,  we  know  not  j 
how  we  may  slide ;  for  all  the  ways  of  vice  are  a  slippery  [ 
descent." 

37  T 


434  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  That  sentiment,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  is  much 
older  than  Dr.  Harrison.     Omne  vitium  in  procliviest." 

"  However  new  or  o)d  it  is,  I  find  it  is  true,"  cries 
Amelia.  "  But,  pray,  tell  me  all,  though  I  tremble  to 
hear  it." 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  you 
are  terrified  at  nothing.  Indeed,  indeed,  you  are  too 
great  a  prude." 

"I  do  not  know  what  you  mean  by  prudery,"  an- 
swered Amelia.  "  I  shall  never  be  ashamed  of  the 
strictest  regard  to  decency,  to  reputation,  and  to  that 
honour  in  which  the  dearest  of  all  human  creatures  has 
his  share.  But  pray  give  me  the  letter  ;  there  is  an  ex- 
pression in  it  which  alarmed  me  when  I  read  it.  Pray, 
what  does  he  mean  by  his  two  short  minutes,  and  by 
purchasing  the  reaUty  of  such  another  blessing  ]" 

"  Indeed  I  know  not  what  he  means  by  two  minutes,'* 
cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  unless  he  calls  two  hours  so ;  for 
we  were  not  together  much  less :  and  as  for  any  bles- 
sing he  had,  I  am  a  stranger  to  it.  Sure,  I  hope  you  have 
a  better  opinion  of  me  than  to  think  I  granted  him  the 
last  favour." 

"  I  don't  know  what  favours  you  granted  him,  madam," 
answered  Amelia,  peevishly  ;  "  but  I  am  sorry  you 
granted  him  any  in  my  name." 

"  Upon  my  word,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  you  use  me 
unkindly,  and  it  is  a  usage  I  did  not  expect  at  your 
hands  ;  nor  do  I  know  that  I  have  deserved  it.  I  am  sure 
I  went  to  the  masquerade  with  no  other  view  than  to 
oblige  you ;  nor  did  I  say  or  do  anything  there  which 
any  woman,  who  is  not  the  most  confounded  prude  upon 
earth,  would  have  started  at  on  a  much  less  occasion 
than  what  induced  me.  Well,  I  declare  upon  my  soul, 
then,  that  if  I  was  a  man,  rather  than  be  married  to  a  wo- 
man who  makes  such  a  fuss  with  her  virtue,  I  would  wish 
my  wife  was  without  such  a  troublesome  companion." 

"  Very  possibly,  madam,  these  may  be  your  senti- 
ments," cries  Amelia  ;  "  and  I  hope  they  are  the  senti- 
ments of  your  husband." 

"  I  desire,  madam,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  you  would 
not  reflect  on  my  husband.  He  is  as  worthy  a  man  and 
as  brave  a  man  as  yours;  yes,  madam,  and  he  is  now 
as  much  a  captain." 

She  spoke  these  words  in  so  loud  a  voice,  that  Atkin- 
son, who  was  accidentally  going  up  stairs,  heard  them ; 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  435 

and,  being:  surprised  at  the  angry  tone  of  his  wife's  voice, 
he  entered  the  room,  and,  with  a  look  of  much  aston- 
ishment, begged  to  know  what  was  the  matter. 

*'  The  matter,  my  dear,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  '*  is, 
that  I  have  got  a  commission  for  you,  and  your  good  old 
friend  here  is  angry  with  me  for  getting  it." 

"  I  have  not  spirits  enough,"  cries  Amelia,  "  to  an- 
swer you  as  you  deserve  ;  and,  if  1  had,  you  are  below 
ray  anger." 

*'  I  do  not  know,  Mrs.  Booth,"  answered  the  other, 
"  whence  this  great  superiority  over  me  is  derived  ;  but, 
if  your  virtue  gives  it  you,  1  would  have  you  to  know, 
madam,  that  1  despise  a  prude  as  much  as  you  can  do 
a—" 

"  Though  you  have  several  times,"  cries  Amelia,  "  in- 
sulted me  with  that  word,  I  scorn  to  give  you  any  ill 
language  in  return.  If  you  deserve  any  bad  appellation, 
you  know  it  without  my  telling  it  you." 

Poor  Atkinson,  who  was  more  frightened  than  he  had 
ever  been  in  his  hfe,  did  all  he  could  to  procure  peace. 
He  fell  upon  his  knees  to  his  wife,  and  begged  her  to 
compose  herself;  for,  indeed,  she  seemed  to  be  in  a 
most  furious  rage. 

While  he  was  in  this  posture,  Booth,  who  had  knocked 
so  gently  at  the  door,  for  fear  of  disturbing  his  wife, 
that  he  had  not  been  heard  in  the  tempest,  came  into 
the  room.  The  moment  Amelia  saw  him,  the  tears, 
which  had  been  gathering  for  some  time,  burst  in  a  tor- 
rent from  her  eyes,  which,  however,  she  endeavoured 
to  conceal  with  her  handkerchief.  The  entry  of  Booth 
turned  all,  in  an  instant,  into  a  silent  picture ;  in  which 
the  first  figure  which  struck  the  eyes  of  the  captain, 
was  the  sergeant  on  his  knees  to  his  wife. 

Booth  immediately  cried,  "  What  is  the  meaning  of 
thisl"  but  received  no  answer.  He  then  cast  his  eyes 
towards  Amelia  ;  and  plainly  discerning  her  condition,  he 
ran  to  her,  and,  in  a  very  tender  phrase,  begged  to  know 
what  was  the  matter ;  to  which  she  answered,  "  Nothing, 
my  dear!  nothing  of  any  consequence."  He  replied, 
that  he  would  know;  and  then  turned  to  Atkinson,  and 
asked  the  same  question. 

Atkinson  answered,  "  Upon  my  honour,  sir,  I  know 
nothing  of  it.  Something  has  passed  between  madam 
and  my  wife ;  but  what  it  is,  I  know  no  more  than  your 
honour." 

T2 


436  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  Your  wife,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  has  used  me 
cruelly  ill,  Mr.  Booth.  If  you  must  be  satisfied,  that  is 
the  whole  matter." 

Booth  rapped  out  a  great  oath,  and  cried,  "  It  is  im- 
possible :  my  wife  is  not  capable  of  using  any  one  ill." 

Amelia  then  cast  herself  upon  her  knees  to  her  hus- 
band, and  cried,  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  do  not  throw^  your- 
self into  a  passion.  Some  few  w^ords  have  passed : 
perhaps  I  may  be  in  the  wrong." 

"D n  seize  me  if  I  think  so,"  cries  Booth:  "and 

I  wish,  whoever  has  drawn  these  tears  from  your  eyes, 
may  pay  it  with  as  many  drops  of  their  heart's  blood." 

"  You  see,  madam,"  cries  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  you  have 
your  bully  to  take  your  part ;  so,  I  suppose,  you  will  use 
your  triumph." 

Amelia  made  no  answer,  but  still  kept  hold  of  Booth, 
who,  in  a  violent  rage,  cried  out,  "  INIy  Amelia  triumph 
over  such  a  wretch  as  thee  !  What  can  lead  thy  inso- 
lence to  such  presumption  T  Sergeant,  I  desire  you'll 
take  that  monster  out  of  the  room,  or  I  cannot  answer  for 
myself." 

The  sergeant  was  beginning  to  beg  his  wife  to  retire, 
for  he  perceived,  very  plainly,  that  she  had,  as  the 
phrase  is,  taken  a  sip  too  much  that  evening;  when, 
with  a  rage  little  short  of  madness,  she  cried  out,  "  And 
do  you  tamely  see  me  insulted  in  such  a  manner,  now 
that  you  are  a  gentleman,  and  upon  a  footing  with 
him?" 

"  It  is  lucky  for  us  all,  perhaps,"  answered  Booth, 
"  that  he  is  not  my  equal." 

"  You  lie,  sirrah,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson,  "  he  is  every- 
way your  equal ;  he  is  as  good  a  gentleman  as  yourself, 
and  as  much  an  officer.  No,  I  retract  what  I  say :  he 
has  not  the  spirit  of  a  gentleman,  nor  a  man  neither;  or 
he  would  not  bear  to  see  his  wife  insulted." 

"  Let  me  beg  of  you,  my  dear,"  cries  the  sergeant, 
*'  to  go  with  me,  and  compose  yourself." 

"  Go  with  thee,  thou  wretch  V  cries  she,  looking  with 
the  utmost  disdain  upon  him ;  "  no,  nor  ever  speak  to 
thee  more."  At  which  words  she  burst  out  of  the  room ; 
and  the  sergeant,  without  saying  a  word,  followed  her. 

A  very  tender  and  pathetic  scene  now  passed  between 
Booth  and  his  wife,  in  which,  when  she  was  a  little  com- 
posed, she  related  to  him  the  whole  story  :  for,  besides, 
that  it  was  not  possible  for  her  otherwise  to  account  for 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  437 

the  quarrel  which  he  had  seen,  Booth  was  now  possessed 
of  the  letter  that  lay  on  the  floor. 

Amelia,  having  emptied  her  mind  to  her  husband,  and 
obtained  his  faithful  promise  that  he  would  not  resent  the 
affair  to  my  lord,  was  pretty  well  composed,  and  began 
to  relent  a  little  towards  Mrs.  Atkinson -,  but  Booth  was 
so  highly  incensed  with  her,  that  he  declared  he  would 
leave  her  house  the  next  morning;  which  they  both  ac- 
cordingly did,  and  immediately  accommodated  them- 
selves with  convenient  apartments  within  a  few  doors  of 
their  friend  the  doctor. 


Chapter  IX. — Containing  some  things  worthy  observation. 

Notwithstanding  the  exchange  of  his  lodgings,  Booth 
did  not  forget  to  send  an  excuse  to  Mr.  Trent,  of  whose 
conversation  he  had  taken  a  full  surfeit  the  preceding 
evening. 

That  day,  in  his  walks,  Booth  met  with  an  old  brother 
officer,  who  had  served  with  him  at  Gibraltar,  and  was 
on  half-pay  as  well  as  himself.  He  had  not,  indeed,  had 
the  fortune  of  being  broken  with  his  regiment,  as  was 
Booth ;  but  had  gone  out,  as  they  call  it,  on  half-pay  as 
a  lieutenant,  a  rank  to  which  he  had  risen  in  five-and- 
thirty  years. 

This  honest  gentleman,  after  some  discourse  with 
Booth,  desired  him  to  lend  him  half  a  crown,  which  he 
assured  him  he  would  faithfully  pay  the  next  day,  when 
he  was  to  receive  some  money  for  his  sister.  This  sis- 
ter was  the  widow  of  an  officer  that  had  been  killed  in 
the  sea-service  ;  and  she  and  her  brother  lived  together 
on  their  joint  stock,  out  of  which  they  maintained  like- 
wise an  old  mother,  and  two  of  the  sister's  children,  the 
eldest  of  which  was  about  nine  5'ears  old.  "  You  must 
know,"  said  the  old  lieutenant,  "I  have  been  disap- 
pointed this  morning  by  an  old  scoundrel,  who  wanted 
fifteen  percent,  for  advancing  my  sister's  pension;  but  I 
have  now  got  an  honest  fellow,  who  has  promised  it  me 
to-morrow  at  ten  per  cent." 

"  And  enough,  too,  of  all  conscience,"  cries  Booth. 

"  Why,  indeed,  I  think  so  too,"  answered  the  other; 
"  considering  it  is  sure  to  be  paid  one  time  or  other.  To 
say  the  truth,  it  is  a  little  hard  the  government  does  not 
37* 


438  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

pay  those  pensions  better ;  for  my  sister's  has  been  due 
almost  these  two  years ;  that  is  my  way  of  thinking-." 

Booth  answered,  he  was  ashamed  to  refuse  him  such 
a  sum  ;  "  but,  upon  my  soul,"  said  he,  "  I  have  not  a  sin- 
gle halfpenny  in  my  pocket;  for  I  am  in  a  worse  condi- 
tion, if  possible,  than  yourself;  for  I  have  lost  all  my 
money  ;  and,  what  is  worse,  1  owe  Mr.  Trent,  whom 
you  remember  at  Gibraltar,  fifty  pounds." 

"Remember  him!  yes,  d — n  him,  I  remember  him 
very  well,"  cries  the  old  gentleman,  "  though  he  will  not 
remember  me.  He  is  grown  so  great  now,  that  he  will 
not  speak  to  his  old  acquaintance ;  and  yet  I  should  be 
ashamed  of  myself  to  be  great  in  such  a  manner." 

"  What  manner  do  you  mean  V  cries  Booth,  a  little 
eagerly. 

"  Why,  by  pimping,"  answered  the  other  :  "  he  is  pimp 

in  ordinary  to  my  Lord  ,  who  keeps  his  family,  or 

how  the  devil  he  lives  else  I  don't  know ;  for  his  place 
is  not  worth  three  hundred  pounds  a  year,  and  he  and 
his  wife  spend  a  thousand  at  least.  But  she  keeps  an 
assembly,  which,  I  believe,  if  you  was  to  call  a  bawdy- 
house,  you  would  not  misname  it.  But,  d — n  me,  if  I 
had  not  rather  be  an  honest  man,  and  walk  on  foot  with 
holes  in  my  shoes,  as  I  do  now,  or  go  without  a  dinner, 
as  I  and  my  family  will  to-day,  than  ride  in  a  chariot, 
and  feast  by  such  means.  I  am  honest  Bob  Bound,  and 
always  will  be;  that's  my  w^ay  of  thinking:  and  there's 
no  man  shall  call  me  otherwise  ;  for  if  he  does,  I  will 
knock  him  down  for  a  lying  rascal ;  that  is  my  way  of 
thinking." 

"  And  a  very  good  way  of  thinking,  too,"  cries  Booth. 
"However,  you  shall  not  want  a  dinner  to-day;  for  if 
you  will  go  home  with  me,  I  will  lend  you  a  crown  with 
all  my  heart." 

"  Lookee,"  said  the  old  man," if  it  be  anywise  incon- 
venient to  you,  I  will  not  have  it ;  for  I  will  never  rob 
another  man  of  his  dinner  to  eat  myself;  that  is  my 
way  of  thinking." 

"Pooh!"  said  Booth:  "never  mention  such  a  trifle 
twice  between  you  and  me.  Besides,  you  say  you  can 
pay  it  me  to-morrow  ;  and  I  promise  you  that  will  be  the 
same  thing." 

They  then  walked  together  to  Booth's  lodgings,  where 
Booth,  from  Amelia's  pocket,  gave  his  friend  double 
the  little  sum  he  had  asked :  upon  which,  the  old  gen- 


THE    HISTORY   OF  AMELIA.  439 

tleman  shook  him  heartily  by  the  hand ;  and,  repeat- 
ing his  intentions  of  paying  him  the  next  day,  made  the 
best  of  his  way  to  the  butcher's,  whence  he  carried  off  a 
leg  of  mutton  to  a  family  that  had  lately  kept  Lent  with- 
out any  religious  merit. 

When  he  was  gone,  Amelia  asked  her  husband  who 
that  old  gentleman  was.  Booth  answered,  he  was  one 
of  the  scandals  of  his  country ;  that  the  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough had,  about  thirty  years  before,  made  him  an  en- 
sign from  a  private  man,  for  very  particular  merit ;  and 
that  he  had  not  long  since  gone  out  of  the  army  with  a 
broken  heart,  upon  having  several  boys  put  over  his 
head.  He  then  gave  her  an  account  of  his  family,  which 
he  had  heard  from  the  old  gentleman  in  their  way  to  his 
house,  and  with  which  we  have  already,  in  a  concise 
manner,  acquainted  the  reader.  I 

"  Good  heavens  !"  cries  Amelia,  "  what  are  our  great  / 
men  made  of?  Are  they  in  reality  a  distinct  specie?'^ 
from  the  rest  of  mankind?  are  they  born  without^ 
hearts  ?"  . 

"  One  would,  indeed,  sometimes,"  cries  Booth,  "  be  in- 
clined to  think  so.  In  truth,  they  have  no  perfect  idea 
of  those  common  distresses  of  mankind  which  are  far  re- 
moved from  their  own  sphere.  Compassion,  if  thor- 
oughly examined,  will,  I  believe,  appear  to  be  the  fel- 
low-feeling only  of  men  of  the  same  rank  and  degree  of 
life  for  one  another,  on  account  of  the  evils  to  which 
they  themselves  are  liable.  Our  sensations  are,  I  am 
afraid,  very  cold  towards  those  who  are  at  a  great  dis- 
tance fronj  us,  and  whose  calamities  can  consequently 
never  reach  us." 

"  I  remember,"  cries  Amelia,  "  a  sentiment  of  Dr. 
Harrison's,  which  he  told  me  was  in  some  Latin  book ; 
*  I  am  a  man  myself,  and  my  heart  is  interested  in  what- 
ever can  befall  the  rest  of  mankind.'  That  is  the  senti- 
ment of  a  good  man,  and  whoever  thinks  otherwise  is  3 
bad  one." 

"  I  have  often  told  you,  my  dear  Emily,"  cries  Booth, 
"that  all  men,  as  well  the  best  as  the  worst,  act  alike 
from  the  principle  of  self-love.  Where  benevolence, 
therefore,  is  the  uppermost  passion,  self-love  directs  you 
to  gratify  it  by  doing  good,  and  by  relieving  the  dis- 
tresses of  others  ;  for  they  are  then  in  reality  your  own ; 
but  where  ambition,  avarice,  pride,  or  any  other  passion 
governs  the  man,  and  keeps  his  benevolence  down,  the 


440  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

miseries  of  all  other  men  affect  him  no  more  than  they 
would  a  stock  or  a  stone  :  and  thus  the  man  and  his 
statue  have  often  the  same  degree  of  feeling  or  compas- 
sion." 

"I  have  often  wished,  my  dear,"  cries  Amelia,  "to 
hear  you  converse  with  Dr.  Harrison  on  this  subject ; 
for  I  am  sure  he  would  convince  you,  though  1  can't, 
that  there  are  really  such  things  as  religion  and  vir- 
tue." 

This  was  not  the  first  hint  of  this  kind  which  Amelia 
had  given;  for  she  sometimes  apprehended,  from  his  dis- 
course, that  he  was  little  better  than  an  atheist ;  a  con- 
sideration which  did  not  diminish  her  affection  for  him, 
but  gave  her  great  uneasiness.  On  all  such  occasions, 
Booth  immediately  turned  the  discourse  to  some  other 
subject ;  for  though  he  had  in  other  points  a  great  opin- 
ion of  his  wife's  capacity,  yet,  as  a  divine  or  a  philoso- 
pher, he  did  not  hold  her  in  a  very  respectable  light,  nor 
did  he  lay  any  great  stress  on  her  sentiments  in  such  mat- 
ters. He  now,  therefore,  gave  a  speedy  turn  to  the  con- 
versation, and  began  to  talk  of  affairs  below  the  dignity  of 
this  history. 


BOOK    XI. 

Chapter  I, —Containing  a  very  polite  scene. 

We  will  now  look  back  to  some  personages,  who, 
though  not  the  principal  characters  in  this  history,  have 
yet  made  too  considerable  a  figure  in  it  to  be  abruptly 
dropped;  and  these  are  Colonel  James  and  his  lady. 

This  fond  couple  never  met  till  dinner  the  day  after 
the  masquerade,  when  they  happened  to  be  alone  to- 
gether in  an  antechamber  before  the  arrival  of  the  rest 
of  the  company. 

The  conversation  began  with  the  colonel's  saying,  "I 
hope,  madam,  you  got  no  cold  last  night  at  the  masquer- 
ade :"  to  which  the  lady  answered  by  much  the  same 
kind  of  question. 

They  then  sat  together  near  five  minutes  without 
opening  their  mouths  to  each  other.    At  last  Mrs.  James 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  441 

said,  "  Pray,  sir,  who  was  that  mask  with  you  in  the 
dress  of  a  shepherdess  1  How  could  you  expose  your- 
self by  walking  with  such  a  trollop  in'  public  ■?  for  cer- 
tainly no  woman  of  any  figure  would  appear  there  in 
such  a  dress.  You  know,  Mr.  James,  I  never  interfere 
■with  your  affairs  ;  but  I  would,  methinks,  for  my  own 
sake,  if  I  was  you,  preserve  a  little  decency  in  the  face 
of  the  world." 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  James,  "  I  do  not  know  whom 
you  mean.  A  woman  in  such  a  dress  might  speak  to 
me  for  aught  I  know :  a  thousand  people  speak  to  me 
at  a  masquerade ;  but  I  promise  you  I  spoke  to  no 
woman  acquaintance  there  that  I  know  of.  Indeed,  I 
now  recollect  there  was  a  woman  in  the  dress  of  a 
shepherdess,  and  there  was  another  awkward  thing  in  a 
blue  domino  that  plagued  me  a  little  ;  but  I  soon  got  rid 
of  them." 

"  And  I  suppose  5^ou  do  not  know  the  lady  in  the  blue 
domino  neither?" 

"  Not  I,  I  assure  you,"  said  James.  "  But,  pray,  why 
do  you  ask  me  these  questions  ?  It  looks  so  hke  jeal- 
ousy !" 

"  Jealousy  !"  cries  she ;  "  I  jealous  !  No,  Mr.  James, 
I  shall  never  be  jealous,  I  promise  you,  especially  of  the 
lady  in  the  blue  domino  ;  for,  to  my  knowledge,  she  de- 
spises you  of  all  the  human  race." 

"  I  am  heartily  glad  of  it,"  said  James  ;  "  for  I  never 
saw  such  a  tall  awkward  monster  in  my  life." 

"  That  is  a  very  cruel  way  of  telling  me  you  knew 
me." 

'*  You,  madam !"  said  James ;  "  you  was  in  a  black 
domino." 

"  It  is  not  so  unusual  a  thing,  I  believe  you  yourself 
know,  to  change  dresses.  I  own,  I  did  it  to  discover 
some  of  your  tricks.  I  did  not  think  you  could  have 
distinguished  the  tall  awkward  monster  so  well." 

"  Upon  my  soul,"  said  James,  "  if  it  was  you,  I  did 
not  even  suspect  it ;  so  you  ought  not  to  be  offended  at 
what  I  have  said  ignorantly." 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  cries  she,  "  you  cannot  offend  me  by 
anything  you  can  say  to  my  face :  no,  by  my  soul,  I 
despise  you  too  much.  But  I  wish,  Mr.  James,  you 
would  not  make  me  the  subject  of  your  conversation 
among  your  wenches.  I  desire  I  may  not  be  afraid  of 
Lueeting  them  for  fear  of  their  insults ;  that  I  may  not 
T3 


442  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

be  told,  by  a  dirty  trollop,  you  make  me  the  subject  of 
your  wit  among  them,  of  which,  it  seems,  I  am  the 
favourite  topic.  Though  you  have  married  a  tall,  awk- 
ward monster,  Mr.  James,  I  think  she  has  a  right  to  be 
treated,  as  your  wife,  with  respect  at  least.  Indeed,  I 
shall  never  require  any  more;  indeed,  Mr.  James,  I 
never  shall.     I  think  a  wife  has  a  title  to  that." 

"  Who  told  you  this,  madam  1"  said  James. 

"  Your  slut,"  said  she,  "  your  wench,  your  shepherd- 
ess." 

"By  all  that's  sacred,"  cries  James, " I  do  not  know 
who  the  shepherdess  was." 

*'  By  all  that's  sacred  then,"  says  she,  "  she  told  me 
so ;  and  I  am  convinced  she  told  me  truth.  But  I  do 
not  wonder  at  your  denying  it;  for  that  is  equally  con- 
sistent with  honour,  as  to  behave  in  such  a  manner  to  a 
wife  who  is  a  gentlewoman.  1  hope  that  you  will  allow 
me  that,  sir.  Because  I  had  not  quite  so  great  a  for- 
tune, 1  hope  you  do  not  think  me  beneath  you,  or  that 
you  did  nie  any  honour  in  marrying  me.  I  am  come  of 
as  good  a  fannly  as  yourself,  Mr.  James;  and  if  my 
brother  knew  how  you  treated  me,  he  would  not  bear 
it." 

"  Do  you  threaten  me  with  your  brother,  madam  ?" 
said  James. 

"  1  will  not  be  ill-treated,  sir,"  answered  she. 

"  Nor  I  neither,  madam,"  cries  he  :  "  and  therefore  I 
desire  you  will  prepare  to  go  into  the  country  to-morrow 
morning." 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  said  she,  "  I  shall  not." 

"  By  heavens  !  madam,  but  you  shall,"  answered  he ; 
"  I  will  have  my  coach  at  the  door  to-morrow  morning 
by  seven;  and  you  shall  either  go  into  it  or  be  carried." 

"  I  hope,  sir,  you  are  not  in  earnest,"  said  she. 

"  Indeed,  madam,"  answered  he,  "  but  I  am  in  earnest, 
and  resolved :  and  into  the  country  you  go  to-morrow." 

"  But  why  into  the  country,"  said  she,  "  Mr.  James  ? 
Why  will  you  be  so  barbarous  to  deny  me  the  pleasures 
of  the  townl" 

"  Because  you  interfere  with  my  pleasures,"  cried 
James  ;  "  which  I  have  told  you,  long  ago,  I  would  not 
submit  to.  It  is  enough  for  fond  couples  to  have  these 
scenes  together.  I  thought  we  had  been  upon  a  better 
footing,  and  had  cared  too  little  for  each  other  to  be- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  443 

come  mutual  plagues.    I  thought  you  had  been  satisfied 
with  the  full  liberty  of  doing  what  you  pleased." 

"  So  I  am ;  I  defy  you  to  say  I  have  ever  given  you 
any  uneasiness." 

"  How  !"  cries  he  ;  "  have  you  not  just  now  upbraided 
me  with  what  you  heard  at  the  masquerade?" 

*'  I  own,"  said  she,  "  to  be  insulted  by  such  a  creature 
to  my  face  stung  me  to  the  soul,  I  must  have  had  no 
spirit  to  bear  the  insults  of  such  an  animal.  Nay,  she 
spoke  of  you  with  equal  contempt.  Whoever  she  is,  I 
protnise  you,  Mr.  Booth  is  her  favourite.  But,  indeed, 
she  is  unworthy  any  one's  regard  ;  for  she  behaved  like 
an  arrant  dragoon." 

"  Hang  her,"  cries  the  colonel :  "  I  know  nothing  of 
her." 

"  Well,  but,  Mr.  James,  I  am  sure  you  will  not  send 
me  into  the  country.  Indeed,  1  will  not  go  into  the 
country." 

"  If  you  was  a  reasonable  woman,"  cries  James,  "  per- 
haps 1  should  not  desire  it :  and,  on  one  considera- 
tion—" 

"  Come,  name  your  consideration,"  said  she. 

"  Let  me  first  experience  your  discernment,"  said  he. 
"  Come,  Molly,  let  me  try  your  judgment.  Can  you 
guess  at  any  woman  of  your  acquaintance  that  I  like '?" 

"  Sure,"  said  she,  "  it  cannot  be  Mrs.  Booth?" 

"  And  why  not  Mrs.  Booth  V  answered  he.  "  Is  she 
not  the  finest  woman  in  the  world?" 

"  Very  far  from  it,"  replied  she,  "  in  my  opinion." 

"  Pray,  what  faults,"  said  he,  "  can  you  find  in  her  ?" 

"  In  the  first  place,"  cries  Mrs.  James,  "  her  eyes  are 
too  large  ;  and  she  has  a  look  with  them  that  I  don't 
know  how  to  describe  ;  but  I  know  I  don't  like  it.  Then 
her  eyebrows  are  too  large  ;  therefore,  indeed,  she  does 
all  in  her  power  to  remedy  this  with  her  pincers ;  for  if 
it  was  not  for  those,  her  eyebrows  would  be  preposter- 
ous. Then  her  nose,  as  well  proportioned  as  it  is,  has 
a  visible  scar  on  one  side.  Her  neck,  likewise,  is  too 
protuberant  for  the  genteel  size,  especially  as  she  laces 
herself;  for  no  woman,  in  my  opinion,  can  be  genteel 
who  is  not  entirely  flat  before  :  and,  lastly,  she  is  both 
too  s«hort  and  too  tall.  Well,  you  may  laugh,  Mr. 
James :  I  know  what  I  mean,  though  I  cannot  well  ex- 
press it ;  I  mean,  that  she  is  too  tall  for  a  pretty  woman, 
and  too  short  for  a  fine  woman.    There  is  such  a  thing 


444  THE    HISTORY   OP   AMELIA. 

as  a  kind  of  insipid  medium ;  a  kind  of  something  that  is 
neither  one  thing  nor  another.  I  know  not  how  to  ex- 
press it  more  clearly  ;  but  when  I  say  such  a  one  is  a 
pretty  woman,  a  pretty  thing,  a  pretty  creature,  you 
know  very  well  I  mean  a  little  woman  ;  and  when  I  say 
such  a  one  is  a  very  fine  woman,  a  very  fine  person  of  a 
woman,  to  be  sure  1  must  mean  a  tall  woman.  Now  a 
woman  that  is  between  both,  is  certainly  neither  the  one 
nor  the  other." 

"  Well,  I  own,"  said  he,  "  you  have  explained  yourself 
with  great  dexterity ;  but,  with  all  these  imperfections,  I 
cannot  help  liking  her." 

"  That  you  need  not  tell  me,  Mr.  James,"  answered 
the  lady :  "  for  that  I  knew  before  you  desired  me  to  in- 
vite her  to  your  house  ;  and,  nevertheless,  did  not  I,  like 
an  obedient  wife,  comply  with  your  desires?  did  I  make 
any  objection  to  the  party  you  proposed  for  the  masquer- 
ade, though  I  knew  very  well  your  motive  ?  What  can 
the  best  of  wives  do  more  1  To  procure  you  success,  is 
not  in  my  power ;  and,  if  I  may  give  you  my  opinion,  I 
believe  you  never  will  succeed  with  her." 

"  Is  her  virtue  so  very  impregnable]"  said  he,  with  a 
sneer. 

"  Her  virtue,"  answered  Mrs.  James,  "  has  the  best 
guard  in  the  world,  which  is  a  most  violent  love  for  her 
husband." 

"  All  pretence  and  affectation,"  cries  the  colonel.  "  It 
is  impossible  she  should  have  so  little  taste,  or,  indeed, 
so  little  delicacy,  as  to  like  such  a  fellow." 

"  Nay,  I  do  not  much  like  him  myself,"  said  she  :  "  he 
is  not,  indeed,  at  all  such  a  sort  of  man  as  I  should  like  ; 
but  I  thought  he  had  been  generally  allowed  to  be  hand- 
some." 

"  He  handsome?"  cries  James:  "  what,  with  a  nose 
like  the  proboscis  of  an  elephant,  with  the  shoulders  of  a 
porter,  and  the  legs  of  a  chairman  \  The  fellow  has  not 
in  the  least  the  look  of  a  gentleman;  and  one  would 
rather  think  he  had  followed  a  plough  than  the  camp  all 
his  life." 

"  Nay,  now  I  protest,"  said  she,  "  I  think  you  do  him 
injustice.  He  is  genteel  enough,  in  my  opinion.  It  is 
true,  indeed,  he  is  not  quite  of  the  most  delicate  make ; 
but  whatever  he  is,  I  am  convinced  she  thinks  him  the 
best  man  in  the  world." 


THE    HISTORY    OP   AMELIA.  445 

*'  I  cannot  believe  it,"  answered  he,  peevishly :  "  but  will 
you  invite  her  to  dinner  to-morrow  V 

"  With  all  my  heart,  and  as  often  as  you  please,"  an- 
swered she.  "  But  I  have  some  favours  to  ask  of  you. 
First,  I  must  hear  no  more  of  going  out  of  town  till  I 
please." 

"  Very  well,"  cries  he. 

"  In  the  next  place,"  said  she,  "  I  must  have  two  hun- 
dred guineas  within  these  two  or  three  days." 

"  Well,  1  agree  to  that  too,"  answered  he. 

"  And  when  1  do  go  out  of  town,  I  go  to  Tunbridge,  I 
insist  upon  that;  and  from  Tunbridge  1  go  to  Bath, 
positively  to  Bath  :  and  I  promise  you  faithfully,  I  will  do 
all  in  my  power  to  carry  Mrs.  Booth  with  me." 

*'  On  that  condition,"  answered  he,  "  1  promise  you  you 
shall  go  wherever  you  please  ;  and  to  show  you,  I  will 
even  prevent  your  wishes  by  my  generosity :  as  soon  as 
I  receive  the  five  thousand  pounds  which  I  am  going  to 
take  up  on  one  of  my  estates,  you  shall  have  two  hundred 
more." 

She  thanked  him  with  a  low  courtesy ;  and  he  was  in 
such  good-humour,  that  he  offered  to  kiss  her.  To  this 
kiss  she  coldly  turned  her  cheek ;  and  then,  flirting  her 
fan,  said,  "  Mr.  James,  there  is  one  thing  I  forgot  to 
mention  to  you;  1  think  you  intended  to  get  a  commis- 
sion in  some  regiment  abroad  for  this  young  man.  Now, 
if  you  would  take  my  advice,  1  know  this  will  not 
oblige  his  wife  ;  and,  besides,  1  am  positive  she  resolves 
to  go  with  him.  But,  if  you  can  provide  for  him  in  some 
regiment  at  home,  I  know  she  will  dearly  love  you  for 
it ;  and  when  he  is  ordered  to  quarters,  she  will  be  left 
behind;  and  Yorkshire  or  Scotland,  I  think,  is  as  good  a 
distance  as  either  of  the  Indies." 

"  Well,  I  will  do  what  I  can,"  answered  .Tames;  "but 
I  cannot  ask  anything  yet ;  for  I  got  two  places  of  a 
hundred  a  year  each  for  two  of  my  footmen  within  this 
fortnight." 

At  this  instant  a  violent  knock  at  the  door  signified  the 
arrival  of  their  company  ;  upon  which,  both  husband  and 
wife  put  on  their  best  looks  to  receive  their  guests;  and, 
from  their  behaviour  to  each  other  during  the  rest  of  the 
day,  a  stranger  might  have  concluded  he  had  been  in 
company  with  the  fondest  couple  in  the  universe. 
38 


446  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 


Chapter  II. — Matters  political. 

Before  we  return  to  Booth,  we  will  relate  a  scene  in 
which  Dr.  Harrison  was  concerned. 

This  good  man,  while  in  the  country,  happened  to  be 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  nobleman  of  his  acquaintance, 
and  whom  he  knew  to  have  very  considerable  interest 
with  the  ministers  at  that  time. 

The  doctor,  who  was  very  well  known  to  this  noble- 
man, took  this  opportunity  of  paying  him  a  visit,  in  order 
to  recommend  poor  Booth  to  his  favour.  Nor  did  he 
much  doubt  of  his  success ;  the  favour  he  was  to  ask 
being  a  very  small  one ;  and  to  which,  he  thought,  the 
services  of  Booth  gave  him  so  just  a  title. 

The  doctor's  name  soon  gained  him  an  admission  to  the 
presence  of  this  great  man,  who  indeed  received  him 
with  much  courtesy  and  politeness  ;  not  so  much,  per- 
haps, from  any  particular  regard  to  the  sacred  function, 
nor  from  any  respect  to  the  doctor's  personal  merit,  as 
from  some  considerations,  which  the  reader  will,  perhaps, 
guess  anon.  After  many  ceremonials,  and  some  previous 
discourse  on  different  subjects,  the  doctor  opened  his 
business,  and  told  the  great  man  that  he  was  come  to  him 
to  solicit  a  favour  for  a  young  gentleman  who  had  been  an 
officer  in  the  army,  and  was  now  on  half-pay.  "  All  the 
favour  I  ask,  my  lord,"  said  he,  "  is,  that  this  gentleman 
may  be  again  admitted  adeundem.  1  am  convinced  your 
lordship  will  do  me  the  justice  to  think  I  would  not  ask 
for  a  worthless  person :  but,  indeed,  the  young  man  I 
mean  has  very  extraordinary  merit.  He  was  at  the  siege 
of  Gibraltar,  in  which  he  behaved  with  distinguished 
bravery  ;  and  was  dangerously  wounded  at  two  several 
times  in  the  service  of  his  country.  I  will  add,  that  he 
is,  at  present,  in  great  necessity,  and  has  a  wife  and 
several  children,  for  whom  he  has  no  other  means  of 
providing  ;  and,  if  it  will  recommend  him  further  to  your 
lordship's  favour,  his  wife,  I  believe,  is  one  of  the  best 
and  worthiest  of  her  sex." 

"  As  to  that,  my  dear  doctor,"  cries  the  nobleman,  "  I 
shall  make  no  doubt :  indeed,  any  service  I  shall  do  the 
gentleman  will  be  upon  your  account.  As  to  necessity, 
it  is  the  plea  of  so  many,  that  it  is  impossible  to  serve 
them  all ;  and,  with  regard  to  the  personal  merit  of  these 


I 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  447 

inferior  officers,  I  believe  T  need  not  tell  you  that  it  is 
very  little  regarded.  But,  if  you  recommend  him,  let  the 
person  be  what  he  will,  I  am  convinced  it  will  be  done  ; 
for  I  know  it  is  in  your  power  at  present  to  ask  for  a 
greater  matter  than  this." 

"  I  depend  entirely  upon  your  lordship,"  answered  the 
doctor. 

"  Indeed,  my  worthy  friend,"  replied  the  lord,  "  I  will 
not  take  a  merit  to  myself  which  will  so  httle  belong  to 
nie.  You  are  to  depend  on  yourself.  It  falls  out  very 
luckily,  too,  at  this  time,  when  you  have  it  in  your  power 
so  greatly  to  oblige  us." 

"  What,  my  lord,  is  in  my  power]"  cries  the  doctor. 

"  You  certainly  know,"  answered  his  lordship,  "  how 
hard  Colonel  Trompinglon  is  run  at  your  town  in  the 
election  of  a  mayor;  they  tell  me  it  will  be  a  very  near 
thing  unless  you  join  us  ;  but  we  know  it  is  in  your  power 
to  do  the  business  and  turn  the  scale.  I  heard  your  name 
mentioned  the  other  day  on  that  account;  and  I  know 
you  may  have  anything  in  reason,  if  you  will  give  us 
your  interest." 

"Sure,  my  lord,"  cried  the  doctor,  "you  are  not  in 
earnest  in  asking  my  interest  for  the  colonel  ]" 

*'  Indeed  1  am,"  answered  the  peer;  "  why  should  you 
doubt  itr' 

"  For  many  reasons,"  answered  the  doctor.  "  First, 
I  am  an  old  friend  and  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Fairfield,  as 
your  lordship,  I  believe,  very  well  knows ;  the  little  in- 
terest, therefore,  that  I  have,  you  may  be  assured  will 
go  in  his  favour.  Indeed,  I  do  not  concern  myself  deeply 
in  these  affairs,  for  I  do  not  think  it  becomes  my  cloth 
so  to  do  ;  but,  as  far  as  I  think  it  decent  to  interest  my- 
self, it  will  certainly  be  on  the  side  of  Mr.  Fairfield.  In- 
deed, I  should  do  so,  if  I  was  acquainted  with  both  the 
gentlemen  only  by  reputation  ;  the  one  being  a  neigh- 
bouring gentleman  of  a  very  large  estate,  a  very  sober 
and  sensible  man,  of  known  probity  and  attachment  to 
the  true  interest  of  his  country;  the  other  is  a  mere 
stranger,  a  boy,  a  soldier  of  fortune  ;  and,  as  far  as  I  can 
discern  from  the  little  conversation  I  have  had  with 
him,  of  a  very  shallow  capacity  and  no  education." 

"No  education,  my  dear  friend  1"  cries  the  noble- 
man ;  "  why  he  has  been  educated  in  half  the  courts  of 
Europe." 

"  Perhaps  so,  my  lord,"  answered  the  doctor ;  "  but  I 


448  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

shall  always  be  so  great  a  pedant,  as  to  call  a  man  of  no 
learning  a  man  of  no  education;  and  from  my  own 
knowledge  I  can  aver,  that  I  am  persuaded  there  is 
scarce  a  foot-soldier  in  the  army  who  is  more  illiterate 
than  the  colonel." 

"  Why,  as  to  Latin  and  Greek,  you  know,"  replied  the 
lord,  "  they  are  not  much  required  in  the  army." 

*'  It  may  be  so,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Then  let  such  per- 
sons keep  to  their  own  profession.  It  is  a  very  low 
civil  capacity  indeed  for  which  an  illiterate  man  can  be 
qualified ;  and,  to  speak  a  plain  truth,  if  your  lordship 
is  a  friend  to  the  colonel,  you  will  do  well  to  advise  him 
to  decline  an  attempt,  in  which,  I  am  certain,  he  has  no 
probabiUty  of  success." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  lord,  "if  you  are  resolved  against 
us,  I  must  deal  as  freely  with  you,  and  tell  you  plainly  I 
cannot  serve  you  in  your  affair.  Nay,  it  will  be  the  best 
thing  I  can  do  to  hold  my  tongue  ;  for,  if  I  should  men- 
tion his  name  with  your  recommendation,  after  what  you 
have  said,  he  would,  perhaps,  never  get  provided  for  as 
long  as  he  lives." 

'•  Is  his  own  merit,  then,  my  lord,  no  recommenda- 
tion ?"  cries  the  doctor. 

"  My  dear,  dear  sir,"  cries  the  other,  "  what  is  the 
merit  of  a  subaltern  officer  1" 

"  Surely,  my  lord,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  it  is  the  merit 
which  should  recommend  him  to  the  post  of  a  subaltern 
officer;  and  it  is  a  merit  which  will  hereafter  qualify  him 
to  serve  his  country  in  a  higher  capacity.  And  I  do  as- 
sure you  of  this  young  man,  that  he  has  not  only  a  good 
heart,  but  a  good  head  too  ;  and  1  have  been  told  by  those 
who  are  judges,  that  he  is,  for  his  age,  an  excellent 
officer." 

"  Very  probably,"  cries  my  lord ;  "  and  there  are 
abundance  with  the  same  merit,  and  the  same  qualifica- 
tions, who  want  a  morsel  of  bread  for  themselves  and 
their  families." 

"  It  is  an  infamous  scandal  on  the  nation,"  cries  the 
doctor ;  "  and  I  am  heartily  sorry  it  can  be  said  even 
with  a  colour  of  truth." 

"  How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?"  says  the  peer.  "  Do 
you  think  it  is  possible  to  provide  for  all  men  of 
merit?" 

"  Yes,  surely  do  I,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  and  very  easily 
too." 


THE    HISTORY  OP    AMELIA.  449 

"  How,  pray  V  cries  the  lord ;  "  upon  my  word,  I  shall 
be  g-lad  to  know." 

"  Only  by  not  providing  for  those  who  have  none. 
The  men  of  merit  in  any  capacity  are  not,  I  am  afraid, 
so  extremely  numerous,  that  we  need  starve  any  of 
them,  unless  we  wickedly  suffer  a  set  of  worthless  fel- 
lows to  eat  their  bread." 

''This  is  all  mere  Utopia,"  cries  his  lordship;  "the 
chimerical  system  of  Plato's  commonwealth,  with  which 
we  amused  ourselves  at  the  university ;  politics,  which 
are  inconsistent  with  the  state  of  human  affairs." 

"Sure,  my  lord,"  cries  the  doctor,  "we  have  read  of 
states  where  such  doctrines  have  been  put  in  practice. 
What  is  your  lordship's  opinion  of  Rome  m  the  earlier 
ages  of  the  commonwealth,  of  Sparta,  and  even  of  Athens 
itself  in  some  periods  of  its  history  ■?" 

"  Indeed,  doctor,"  cries  the  lord,  "  all  these  notions  are 
obsolete,  and  long  since  exploded.  To  apply  maxims 
of  government  drawn  from  the  Greek  and  Roman  histo- 
ries to  this  nation,  is  absurd  and  impossible.  But,  if 
you  will  have  Roman  examples,  fetch  them  from  those 
times  of  the  republic  that  were  most  like  our  ovi^n.  Do 
you  not  know,  doctor,  that  this  is  as  corrupt  a  nation  as 
ever  existed  under  the  sun?  And  would  you  think  of 
governing  such  a  people  by  the  strict  principles  of  hon- 
esty and  morality  V 

"  If  it  be  so  corrupt,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  think  it  is 
high  time  to  amend  it,  or  else  it  is  easy  to  foresee  that 
Roman  and  British  liberty  will  have  the  same  fate;  for 
corruption  in  the  body  politic  as  naturally  tends  to  dis- 
solution as  in  the  natural  body." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  simile,"  cries  my  lord ;  "  for  in 
the  natural  body,  I  believe,  you  will  allow  there  is  the 
season  of  youth,  the  season  of  manhood,  and  the  season 
of  old  age ;  and  that,  when  the  last  of  these  arrives,  it 
will  be  an  impossible  attempt,  by  all  the  means  of  art, 
to  restore  the  body  again  to  its  youth,  or  to  the  vigour 
of  its  middle  age  The  same  periods  happen  to  every 
great  kingdom.  In  its  youth,  it  rises  by  arts  and  arms 
to  power  and  prosperity ;  this  it  enjoys,  and  flourisshes 
with  a  while ;  and  then  it  may  be  said  to  be  in  the  vigour 
of  its  age,  enriched  at  home  with  all  the  emoluments 
and  blessings  of  peace,  and  formidable  abroad  with  all 
the  terrors  of  war.  At  length,  this  very  prosperity  in- 
troduces corruption;  and  then  comes  on  its  old  age. 
38* 


450  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

Virtue  and  learning,  art  and  industry,  decay  by  degrees ; 
the  people  sink  into  sloth,  and  luxury,  and  prostitution ; 
it  is  enervated  at  home,  becomes  contemptible  abroad  ; 
and  such,  indeed,  is  its  misery  and  wretchedness,  that  it 
resembles  a  man  in  the  last  decrepit  stage  of  life,  who 
looks  with  unconcern  at  his  approaching  dissolution." 

"  This  is  a  melancholy  picture,  indeed,"  cries  the  doc- 
tor; "and  if  the  latter  part  of  it  can  be  applied  to  our 
case,  I  see  nothing  but  religion,  which  would  have  pre- 
vented this  decrepit  state  of  the  constitution,  should  pre- 
vent a  man  of  spirit  from  hanging  himself  out  of  the  way 
of  so  wretched  a  contemplation." 

"  Why  so  V  said  the  peer  :  "  why  hang  yourself,  doc- 
tor ?  Would  it  not  be  wiser,  think  you,  to  make  the 
best  of  your  time,  and  the  most  you  can,  in  such  a  na- 
tion r' 

*'  And  is  religion,  then,  to  be  really  laid  out  of  the  ques- 
tion 1"  cries  the  doctor. 

"  If  I  am  to  speak  my  own  opinion,  sir,"  answered 
the  peer,  '*  you  know  I  shall  answer  in  the  negative ;  but 
you  are  too  well  acquainted  with  the  world  to  be  told, 
that  the  conduct  of  poUticians  is  not  formed  upon  the 
principles  of  religion." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  it,"  cries  the  doctor ;  "  but  I 
will  talk  to  them  then  of  honour  and  honesty :  this  is  a 
language  which,  I  hope,  they  will  at  least  pretend  to 
understand.  Now,  to  deny  a  man  the  preferment  which 
he  merits,  and  to  give  it  to  another  man  who  does  not 
merit  it,  is  a  manifest  act  of  injustice,  and  is  conse- 
quently inconsistent  with  both  honour  and  honesty. 
Nor  is  it  only  an  act  of  injustice  to  the  man  himself,  but 
to  the  public,  for  whose  good,  principally,  all  public  of- 
fices are,  or  ought  to  be  instituted.  Now,  this  good  can 
never  be  completed,  nor  obtained,  but  by  employing  all 
persons  according  to  their  capacities.  Wherever  true 
merit  is  liable  to  be  superseded  by  favour  and  partiality, 
and  men  are  intrusted  with  offices  without  any  regard 
to  capacity  or  integrity,  the  affairs  of  that  state  will  al- 
ways be  in  a  deplorable  situation  ;  such,  as  Livy  tells  us, 
was  the  state  of  Capua,  a  little  before  its  final  destruc- 
tion ;  and  the  consequence  your  lordship  well  knows. 
But,  my  lord,  there  is  another  mischief  which  attends 
this  kind  of  injustice,  and  that  is,  it  has  a  manifest  ten- 
dency to  destroy  all  virtue  and  all  ability  among  the 
people,  by  taking  away  all  that  encouragement  and  in- 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  451 

centive  which  should  promote  emulation,  and  raise  men 
to  aim  at  excelling  in  any  art,  science,  or  profession. 
Nor  can  anything,  my  lord,  contribute  more  to  render  a 
nation  contemptible  among  its  neighbours  ;  for  what 
opinion  can  other  countries  have  of  the  councils,  or  what 
terror  can  they  conceive  of  the  arms  of  such  a  people  1 
And  it  was  chiefly  owing  to  the  avoiding  of  this  error 
that  Oliver  Cromwell  carried  the  reputation  of  England 
higher  than  it  ever  was  at  any  other  time.  I  will  add 
only  one  argument  more,  and  that  is  founded  on  the 
most  narrow  and  selfish  system  of  politics  ;  and  this  is, 
that  such  a  conduct  is  sure  to  create  universal  discon- 
tent and  grumbhng  at  home  ;  for  nothing  can  bring  men 
to  rest  satisfied,  when  they  see  others  preferred  to  them, 
but  an  opinion  that  they  deserve  that  elevation ;  for,  as 
one  of  the  greatest  men  this  country  ever  produced  ob- 
serves, 

'  One  worthless  man,  that  gains  what  he  pretends, 
Disgusts  a  thousand  unpretending  friends.' 

With  what  heart-burnings,  then,  must  any  nation  see 
themselves  obliged  to  contribute  to  the  support  of  a  set 
of  men,  of  whose  incapacity  to  serve  them  they  are 
well  apprized  ;  and  who  do  their  country  a  double  dis- 
kindness,  by  being  themselves  employed  in  posts  to 
which  they  are  unequal,  and  by  keeping  others  out  of 
those  employments  for  which  they  are  qualified !" 

"  And  do  you  really  think,  doctor,"  cries  the  nobleman, 
"  that  any  minister  could  support  himself  in  this  coun- 
try upon  such  principles  as  you  recommend  ?  Do  you 
think  he  would  be  able  to  baffle  an  opposition,  unless 
he  should  oblige  his  friends  by  conferring  places,  often 
contrary  to  his  own  inclinations  and  his  own  opinions  V' 

"  Yes,  really  do  I,"  cries  the  doctor.  "  Indeed,  if  a 
minister  is  resolved  to  make  good  his  confession  in  the 
liturgy,  by  leaving  undone  all  those  things  which  he 
ought  to  have  done,  and  by  doing  all  those  things  which 
he  ought  not  to  have  done,  such  a  minister,  I  grant, 
will  be  obliged  to  baffle  opposition,  as  you  are  pleased 
to  term  it,  by  these  arts  ;  for,  as  Shakspeare  somewhere 
says, 

'  Things  ill  begun  strengthen  themselves  by  ill ;' 

but  if,  on  the  contrary,  he  will  please  to  consider  the 
true  interest  of  his  country,  and  that  only  in  great  and 


452  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

nationnl  points  ;  if  he  will  engage  his  country  in  neither 
alliances  nor  quarrels,  but  where  it  is  really  interested ; 
if  he  will  raise  no  money  but  what  is  wanted,  nor  em- 
ploy any  civil  or  military  officers  but  what  are  useful, 
and  place  in  these  employments  men  of  the  highest  in- 
tegrity and  of  the  greatest  abilities ;  if  he  will  employ 
some  few  of  his  hours  to  advance  our  trade,  and  some 
few  more  to  regulate  our  domestic  government ;  if  he 
would  do  this,  my  lord,  I  will  answer  for  it,  he  shall 
either  have  no  opposition  to  baffle,  or  he  shall  baffle  it 
by  a  fair  appeal  to  his  conduct.  Such  a  minister  may, 
in  the  language  of  the  law,  put  himself  on  his  country 
when  he  pleases,  and  he  shall  come  oflf  with  honour  and 
applause." 

"  And  do  you  really  believe,  doctor,"  cries  the  peer, 
"there  ever  was  such  a  minister,  or  ever  will  be  1" 

"  Why  not,  my  lord  V  answered  the  doctor  :  "it  re- 
quires no  extraordinary  parts,  nor  any  extraordinary  de- 
gree of  virtue.  He  need  practise  no  great  instances  of 
self-denial :  he  shall  have  power,  and  honour,  and  riches  ; 
and  perhaps  all  in  a  much  greater  degree  than  he  can 
ever  acquire  by  pursuing  a  contrary  system  :  he  shall 
have  more  of  each,  and  much  more  of  safety." 

"  Pray,  doctor,"  said  my  lord,  "  let  me  ask  you  one 
simple  question :  do  you  really  believe  any  man  upon 
earth  was  ever  a  rogue  out  of  choice  ?" 

"  Really,  my  lord,"  said  the  doctor, "  I  am  ashamed 
to  answer  in  the  affirmative  ;  and  yet  I  am  afraid  expe- 
rience would  almost  justify  me  if  I  should.  Perhaps 
the  opinion  of  the  world  may  sometimes  mislead  men  to 
think  those  measures  necessary  which  in  reality  are  not 
so  :  or  the  truth  may  be,  that  a  man  of  good  inclinations 
finds  his  office  filled  with  such  corruption  by  the  iniquity 
of  his  predecessors,  that  he  may  despair  of  being  capa- 
ble of  purging  it ;  and  so  sits  down  contented,  as  Augeas 
did  with  the  filth  of  his  stables  ;  not  because  he  thought 
them  the  better,  or  that  such  filth  was  really  necessary 
to  a  stable  ;  but  that  he  despaired  of  sufficient  force  to 
cleanse  them." 

"  I  will  ask  you  one  question  more,  and  I  have  done," 
said  the  nobleman.  "  Do  you  imagine,  that  if  any  min- 
ister was  really  as  good  as  you  would  have  him,  that 
the  people  in  general  would  believe  that  he  was  so?" 

"  Truly,  my  lord,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  think  they  may 
be  justified  in  not  believing  too  hastily  :  but  I  beg  leave 


THE   HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  453 

to  answer  your  lordship's  question  by  another.  Does 
your  lordship  believe  that  the  people  of  Greenland,  when 
they  see  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  feel  his  warmth,  after 
so  long  a  season  of  cold  and  darkness,  will  really  be 
persuaded  that  he  shines  upon  them  ?" 

My  lord  smiled  at  the  conceit;  and  then  the  doctor 
took  an  opportunity  to  renew  his  suit,  to  which  his 
lordship  answered,  he  would  promise  nothing,  and  could 
give  him  no  hopes  of  success;  "but  you  maybe  as- 
sured," said  he,  with  a  leering  countenance,  "  1  shall  do 
him  all  the  service  in  my  power;"  a  language  which 
the  doctor  well  understood,  and  soon  after  took  a  civil, 
but  not  a  very  ceremonious  leave. 


Chapter  III.— The  history  of  Mr.  Trent. 

We  will  now  return  to  Mr.  Booth  and  his  wife.  The 
former  had  spent  his  time  very  uneasily,  ever  since  he 
had  discovered  what  sort  of  man  he  was  indebted  to ; 
but,  lest  he  should  forget  it,  Mr.  Trent  thought  now 
proper  to  remind  him,  in  the  following  letter,  which  he 
read  the  next  morning  after  he  had  put  off  the  appoint- 
ment : — 

"Sir, 
"  I  am  sorry  the  necessity  of  my  affairs  obliges  me  to  mention 
that  small  sum  I  had  the  honour  to  lend  you  the  other  night  at  play  ; 
and  which  I  shall  be  much  obliged  to  you  if  you  will  let  me  have 
some  time  either  to-day  or  to-morrow.  I  am,  sir,  your  most  obe- 
dient, most  humble  servant, 

"  George  Trent." 

This  letter  a  little  surprised  Booth,  after  the  genteel, 
and,  indeed,  as  it  appeared,  generous  behaviour  of 
Trent :  but  lest  it  should  have  the  same  effect  upon  the 
reader,  we  will  now  proceed  to  account  for  this,  as  well 
as  for  some  other  phenomena  that  have  appeared  in  this 
history ;  and  which,  perhaps,  we  shall  be  forgiven  for 
not  having  opened  more  largely  before. 

Mr.  Trent,  then,  was  a  gentleman,  possibly  of  a  good 
family,  for  it  was  not  certain  whence  he  sprung  on  the 
father's  side.  His  mother,  who  was  the  only  parent  he 
ever  knew  or  heard  of,  was  a  single  gentlewoman,  and 
for  some  time  carried  on  the  trade  of  a  milliner  in  Cov- 
ent  Garden.    She  sent  her  son,  at  the  age  of  eight  years, 


454  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

to  a  charity-school,  where  he  remained  till  he  was  of 
the  as:e  of  fourteen,  without  making  any  great  profi- 
ciency in  learning;  indeed,  it  is  not  very  probable  he 
should  ;  for  the  master,  who,  in  preference  to  a  very 
learned  and  proper  man,  was  chosen  by  a  party  into  this 
school,  the  salary  of  which  was  upwards  of  a  hundred 
pounds  a  year,  had  himself  never  travelled  through  the 
Latin  grammar,  and  was,  in  truth,  a  most  consummate 
blockhead. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen,  Mr.  Trent  was  put  clerk  to  an 
attorney,  where  he  remained  a  very  short  time  before  he 
took  leave  of  his  master — rather,  indeed,  departed,  with- 
out taking  leave  ;  and  having  broken  open  his  mother's 
escritoire,  and  carried  off  with  him  all  the  valuable  ef- 
fects he  there  found,  to  the  amount  of  about  fifty  pounds, 
he  marched  off  to  sea,  and  went  on  board  a  merchant- 
man, whence  he  was  afterward  pressed  into  a  man-of-war. 

In  this  service  he  continued  above  three  years  ;  during 
which  time  he  behaved  so  ill  in  his  moral  character, 
that  he  twice  underwent  a  very  severe  discipline  for 
thefts  in  which  he  was  detected  :  but,  at  the  same  time, 
he  behaved  so  well  as  a  sailor  in  an  engagement  with 
some  pirates,  that  he  wiped  off  all  former  scores,  and 
greatly  recommended  himself  to  his  captain. 

At  his  return  home,  he  being  then  about  twenty  years 
of  age,  he  found  that  the  attorney  had  in  his  absence 
married  his  mother,  had  buried  her,  and  secured  all  her 
effects,  to  the  amount,  as  he  was  informed,  of  about  fif- 
teen hundred  pounds.  Trent  applied  to  his  stepfather, 
but  to  no  purpose ;  the  attorney  utterly  disowned  him, 
nor  would  he  suffer  him  to  come  a  second  time  within 
his  doors. 

It  happened  that  the  attorney  had,  by  a  former  wife, 
an  only  daughter,  a  great  favourite,  who  was  about  the 
same  age  with  Trent  himself;  and  had,  during  his  resi- 
dence at  her  father's  house,  taken  a  very  great  hking  to 
this  young  fellow,  who  was  extremely  handsome,  and 
perfectly  well  made.  This  her  liking  was  not,  during 
his  absence,  so  far  extinguished,  but  that  it  immediately 
revived  on  his  return.  Of  this  she  took  care  to  give 
Mr.  Trent  proper  intimation;  for  she  was  not  one  of 
those  backward  and  delicate  ladies  who  can  die  rather 
than  make  the  first  overture.  Trent  was  overjoyed  at 
this,  and  with  reason ;  for  she  was  a  very  lovely  girl  in 
her  person,  the  only  child  of  a  rich  father;  and  tho 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  455 

prospect  of  so  complete  a  revenge  on  the  attorney 
charmed  him  above  all  the  rest.  To  be  as  short  in  the 
matter  as  the  parties,  a  marriage  was  soon  consummated 
between  them. 

The  attorney  at  first  raged,  and  was  implacable ;  but 
at  last  fondness  for  his  daughter  so  far  overcame  resent- 
ment, that  he  advanced  a  sum  of  money  to  buy  his  son- 
in-law  (for  now  he  acknowledged  him  as  such)  an  en- 
sign's commission  in  a  marching  regiment,  then  ordered 
to  Gibraltar;  at  which  place,  the  attorney  heartily  hoped 
that  Trent  might  be  knocked  on  the  head ;  for,  in  that 
case,  he  thought  he  might  marry  his  daughter  more 
agreeably  to  his  own  ambition,  and  to  her  advantage. 

The  regiment  into  which  Trent  purchased  was  the 
same  with  that  in  which  Booth  liiiewise  served;  the  one 
being  an  ensign,  and  the  other  a  lieutenant,  in  the  two 
additional  companies. 

Trent  had  no  blemish  in  his  military  capacity.  Though 
he  had  but  an  indifferent  education,  he  was  naturally 
sensible  and  genteel,  for  nature,  as  we  have  said,  had 
given  him  a  very  agreeable  person.  He  was  likewise  a 
very  bold  fellow;  and,  as  he  really  behaved  himself 
every  way  well  enough  while  he  was  at  Gibraltar, 
there  was  some  degree  of  intimacy  between  him  and 
Booth. 

When  the  siege  was  over,  and  the  additional  compa- 
nies were  again  reduced,  Trent  returned  to  his  wife,  who 
received  him  with  great  joy  and  affection.  Soon  after 
this,  an  accident  happened,  which  proved  the  utter  ruin 
of  his  father-in-law,  and  ended  in  breaking  his  heart ; 
this  was  nothing  but  making  a  mistake,  pretty  common 
at  this  day,  of  writing  another  man's  name  to  a  deed  in- 
stead of  his  own.  In  truth,  this  matter  was  no  less 
than  what  the  law  calls  forgery,  and  was  just  then  made 
capital  by  an  act  of  parliament.  From  this  offence,  in- 
deed, the  attorney  was  acquitted,  by  not  admittins:  the 
proof  of  the  party,  who  was  to  avoid  his  own  deed,  by 
his  evidence  ;  and  therefore  no  witness,  according  to 
those  excellent  rules  called  the  law  of  evidence — a  law 
very  excellently  calculated  for  the  preservation  of  the 
lives  of  his  majesty's  roguish  subjects,  and  most  notably 
used  for  that  purpose. 

But  though  by  common  law  the  attorney  was  honour- 
ably 'acquitted,  yet,  as  common  sense  manifested  to  every 
onethat  he  was  guilty,  he  unhappily  lost  his  reputation, 


456  THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA. 

and  of  consequence  his  business ;  the  chagrin  of  which 
latter  soon  put  an  end  to  his  hfe. 

The  prosecution  had  been  attended  with  a  very  great 
expense  ;  for,  besides  the  ordinary  costs  of  avoiding  the 
gallows,  by  the  help  of  the  law,  there  was  a  very  high 
article,  of  no  less  than  a  thousand  pounds,  paid  down  to 
remove  out  of  the  way  a  witness,  against  whom  there 
was  no  legal  exception.  The  poor  gentleman  had  be- 
sides suffered  some  losses  in  business ;  so  that,  to  the 
surprise  of  all  his  acquaintance,  when  his  debts  were  paid, 
there  remained  no  more  than  a  small  estate  of  fourscore 
pounds  a  year,  which  he  settled  upon  his  daughter,  far 
out  of  the  reach  of  her  husband,  and  about  two  hundred 
pounds  ni  money. 

The  old  gentleman  had  not  long  been  in  his  grave, 
before  Trent  set  himself  to  consider  seriously  of  the 
state  of  his  affairs.  He  had  lately  begun  to  look  on  his 
wife  with  a  much  less  degree  of  liking  and  desire  than 
formerly  ;  for  he  was  one  of  those  who  think  too  much 
of  one  thing  is  good  for  nothing.  Indeed,  he  had  in- 
dulged those  speculations  so  far,  that,  I  believe,  his  wife, 
though  one  of  the  prettiest  women  in  town,  was  the 
last  subject  that  he  would  have  chosen  for  any  amorous 
dalliance. 

Many  other  persons,  however,  greatly  differed  from 
him  in  this  opinion.  Among  the  rest  was  the  illustrious 
peer,  of  amorous  memory.  This  noble  peer  having 
therefore  got  a  view  of  Mrs.  Trent  one  day  in  the  street, 
did,  by  means  of  an  emissary  then  with  him,  make  him- 
self acquainted  with  her  lodging,  to  which  he  imme- 
diately laid  siege  in  form,  setting  himself  down  in  a  lodg- 
ing directly  opposite  to  her,  from  whence  the  battery  of 
ogles  began  to  play  the  very  next  morning. 

This  siege  had  not  continued  long  before  the  governor 
of  the  garrison  became  sufficiently  apprized  of  all  the 
works  which  were  carrying  on ;  and  having  well  recon- 
noitred the  enemy,  and  discovered  who  he  was,  not- 
withstanding a  false  name,  and  some  disguise  of  his  per- 
son, he  called  a  council  of  war  within  his  own  breast. 
In  fact,  to  drop  all  allegory,  he  began  to  consider 
whether  his  wife  was  not  really  a  more  valuable  posses- 
sion than  he  had  lately  thought  her.  In  short,  as  he  had 
been  disappointed  in  her  fortune,  he  now  conceived  some 
hopes  of  turning  her  beauty  itself  into  a  fortune. 

Without  communicating  these  views  to  her,  he  soon 


THE   HISTORY   OP   AMELIA.  457 

scraped  an  acquaintance  with  his  opposite  neighbour, 
by  the  name  which  he  there  usurped,  and  counterfeited 
an  entire  ig-norance  of  his  real  name  and  title.  On  this 
occasion  Trent  had  his  disguise  likewise,  for  he  affected 
the  utmost  simplicity ;  of  which  affectation,  as  he  was 
a  very  artful  fellow,  he  was  extremely  capable. 

The  peer  fell  plump  into  this  snare ;  and  when,  by  the 
simplicity,  as  he  imagined,  of  the  husband,  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  wife,  he  was  so  extravagantly 
charmed  with  her  person,  that  he  resolved,  whatever 
was  the  cost  or  the  consequence,  he  would  possess  her. 

His  lordship,  however,  preserved  some  caution  in  his 
management  of  this  affair;  more,  perhaps,  than  was  ne- 
cessary. As  for  the  husband,  none  was  requisite,  for  he 
knew  all  he  could ;  and  with  regard  to  the  wife  herself, 
as  she  had  for  some  time  perceived  the  decrease  of  her 
husband's  affection,  (for  few  women  are,  I  believe,  to  be 
imposed  upon  in  that  matter,)  she  was  not  displeased  to 
find  the  return  of  all  that  complaisance  and  endearment, 
of  those  looks  and  languishments,  from  another  agreea- 
ble person,  which  she  had  formerly  received  from  Trent, 
and  which  she  now  found  she  should  receive  from  him 
no  longer. 

My  lord,  therefore,  having  been  indulged  with  as  much 
opportunity  as  he  could  wish  from  Trent,  and  having  re- 
ceived rather  more  encouragement  than  he  could  well 
have  hoped  from  the  lady,  began  to  prepare  all  mat- 
ters for  a  storm ;  when  luckily  Mr.  Trent  declaring  he 
must  go  out  of  town  for  two  days,  he  fixed  on  the  first 
day  of  his  departure  as  the  time  of  carrying  his  design 
into  execution. 

And  now,  after  some  debate  within  himself  in  what 
manner  he  should  approach  his  love,  he  at  last  deter- 
mined to  do  it  in  his  own  person;  for  he  conceived, 
and  perhaps  very  rightly,  that  the  lady,  like  Semele, 
was  not  void  of  ambition,  and  would  have  preferred  Ju- 
piter in  all  his  glory  to  the  same  deity  in  the  disguise  of 
an  humble  shepherd.  He  dressed  himself,  therefore,  in 
the  richest  embroidery  of  which  he  was  master,  and  ap- 
peared before  his  mistress  arrayed  in  all  the  brightness 
of  peerage  ;  a  sight,  whose  charms  she  had  not  the 
power  to  resist,  and  the  consequences  are  only  to  be  ima- 
gined. In  short,  the  same  scene  which  Jupiter  acted  with 
his  above-mentioned  mistress  of  old  was  more  than  be- 
ginning, when  Trent  burst  from  the  closet  into  which 
39  U 


458  THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

he  had  conveyed  himself,  and  unkindly  interrupted  the 
action. 

His  lordship  presently  ran  to  his  sword ;  but  Trent, 
with  great  calmness,  answered,  that  as  it  was  very  well 
known  he  durst  fight,  he  should  not  draw  his  sword  on 
this  occasion  ;  "  for  sure,"  says  he,  "  my  lord,  it  would 
be  the  highest  imprudence  in  me  to  kill  a  man  who  has 
now  become  so  considerably  my  debtor."  At  which 
words,  he  fetched  a  person  from  the  closet,  who  had 
been  confined  with  him;  telling  him  he  had  done  his 
business,  and  might  now,  if  he  pieasedj  retire. 

It  would  be  tedious  here  to  amuse  the  reader  with  all 
that  passed  on  the  present  occasion  ;  the  rage  and  con- 
fusion of  the  wife,  or  the  perplexity  in  which  my  lord 
was  involved.  We  will  omit,  therefore,  all  such  mat- 
ters, and  proceed  directly  to  business,  as  Trent  and  his 
lordship  did  soon  after;  and,  in  the  conclusion,  my  lord 
stipulated  a  good  round  sum,  and  to  provide  Mr.  Trent 
with  a  good  place  on  the  first  opportunity. 

On  the  side  of  Mr  Trent,  was  stipulated  absolute  re- 
mission of  all  past,  and  full  indulgence  for  the  time  to 
come. 

Trent  now  immediately  took  a  house  at  the  polite 
end  of  the  town,  furnished  it  elegantly,  and  set  up  his 
equipage,  rigged  out  both  himself  and  his  wife  with 
very  handsome  clothes,  frequented  all  public  places 
where  he  could  get  admission,  pushed  himself  into  ac- 
quaintance ;  and  his  wife  soon  afterward  began  to  keep 
an  assembly,  or,  in  the  fashionable  phrase,  to  be  "  at 
home"  once  a  week  ;  when,  by  my  lord's  assistance, 
she  was  presently  visited  by  most  men  of  the  first  rank, 
and  by  all  such  women  of  fashion  as  are  not  very  nice  in 
their  company. 

My  lord's  amour  with  this  lady  lasted  not  long ;  for, 
as  we  have  before  observed,  he  was  the  most  incon- 
stant of  all  the  human  race.  Mrs.  Trent's  passion  was 
not,  however,  of  that  kind  which  leads  to  any  very  deep 
resentment  of  such  fickleness  :  her  passion,  indeed,  was 
principally  founded  upon  interest;  so  that  foundation 
served  to  support  another  superstructure  :  and  she  was 
easily  prevailed  upon,  as  well  as  her  husband,  to  be  use- 
ful to  my  lord  in  a  capacity  which,  though  very  often 
exerted  in  the  polite  world,  has  not  as  yet,  to  my  great 
surprise,  acquired  any  polite  name,  or  indeed  any,  which 
is  not  too  coarse  to  be  admitted  in  this  history. 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  459 

After  this  preface,  which  we  thought  necessary  to  ac- 
count for  a  character,  of  which  some  of  my  country  and 
collegiate  readers  might  possibly  doubt  the  existence,  I 
shall  proceed  to  what  more  immediately  regards  Mrs. 
Booth.  The  reader  may  be  pleased  to  remember  that 
Mr.  Trent  was  present  at  the  assembly,  to  which  Booth 
and  his  wife  were  carried  by  Mrs.  James,  and  where 
Amelia  was  met  by  the  noble  peer. 

His  lordship,  seeing  there  that  Booth  and  Trent  were 
old  acquaintance,  failed  not,  to  use  the  language  of 
sportsmen,  to  put  Trent  on  upon  the  scent  of  Amelia  : 
for  this  purpose  that  gentleman  visited  Booth  the  very 
next  day,  and  had  pursued  him  close  ever  since.  By  his 
means,  therefore,  my  lord  learned  that  Amelia  was  to 
be  at  the  masquerade,  to  which  place  she  was  dogged  by 
Trent  in  a  sailor's  jacket,  who,  meeting  my  lord,  accord- 
ing to  agreement,  at  the  entrance  of  the  opera-house, 
like  the  four-legged  gentlemen  of  the  same  vocation, 
made  a  dead  point,  as  it  is  called,  at  the  game. 

My  lord  was  so  satisfied  and  delighted  with  his  con- 
versation at  the  masquerade  with  the  supposed  Amelia, 
and  the  encouragement  which,  in  reality,  she  had  given 
him,  that,  when  he  saw  Trent  the  next  morning,  he  em- 
braced hira  with  great  fondness,  gave  him  a  bank-note 
of  a  hundred  pounds,  and  promised  him  both  the  Indies 
on  his  success,  of  which  he  began  now  to  have  no  man- 
ner of  doubt. 

The  affair  that  happened  at  the  gaming-table  was  like- 
wise a  scheme  of  Trent's,  on  a  hint  given  by  my  lord  to 
him,  to  endeavour  to  lead  Booth  into  some  scrape  or  dis- 
tress; his  lordship  promising  to  pay  whatever  expense 
Trent  might  be  led  into  by  such  means.  Upon  his  lord- 
ship's credit,  therefore,  the  money  lent  to  Booth  was 
really  advanced  :  and  hence  arose  all  that  seeming  gen- 
erosity and  indifference  as  to  the  payment;  Trent  being 
satisfied  with  the  obligations  conferred  on  Booth,  by 
means  of  which  he  hoped  to  effect  his  purpose. 

But  now  the  scene  was  totally  changed  ;  for  Mrs.  At- 
kinson, the  morning  after  the  quarrel,  beginning  seri- 
ously to  recollect  that  she  had  carried  the  matter  rather 
too  far,  and  might  really  injure  Amelia's  reputation — a 
thought  to  which  the  warm  pursuit  of  her  own  interest 
had  a  good  deal  blinded  her  at  the  time,  resolved  to  visit 
my  lord  himself,  and  to  let  him  into  the  whole  story ; 
for,  as  she  had  succeeded  already  in  her  favourite  point, 
U3 


460  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

she  thought  she  had  no  reason  to  fear  any  consequence 
of  the  discovery.  This  resolution  she  immediately  ex- 
ecuted. 

Trent  came  to  attend  his  lordship,  just  after  Mrs. 
Atkinson  had  left  him.  He  found  the  peer  in  a  very  ill 
humour,  and  brought  no  news  to  comfort  or  recruit  his 
spirits ;  for  he  had  himself  just  received  a  billet  from 
Booth,  with  an  excuse  for  himself  and  his  wife  from 
accepting  the  invitation  at  Trent's  house  that  evening, 
where  matters  had  been  previously  concerted  for  their 
entertainment ;  and  when  his  lordship  was  by  accident 
to  drop  into  the  room  where  Amelia  was,  while  Booth 
was  to  be  engaged  at  play  in  another. 

And  now,  after  much  debate,  and  after  Trent  had  ac- 
quainted my  lord  with  the  wretched  situation  of  Booth's 
circumstances,  it  was  resolved  that  Trent  should  im- 
mediately demand  his  money  of  Booth,  and,  upon  his 
not  paying  it,  (for  they  both  concluded  it  impossible  he 
should  pay  it,)  to  put  the  note,  which  Trent  had  for  the 
money,  in  suit  against  him,  by  the  genteel  means  of 
paying  it  away  to  a  nominal  third  person  ;  and  this  they 
both  conceived  must  end  immediately  in  the  ruin  of 
Booth,  and,  consequently,  in  the  conquest  of  Amelia. 

In  this  project,  and  with  this  hope,  both  my  lord  and 
his  setter,  or  (if  the  sportsmen  please)  setting-dog, 
greatly  exulted,  and  it  was  the  next  morning  executed, 
as  we  have  already  seen. 


Chapter  IV. — Containing  some  distress. 

Trent's  letter  drove  Booth  almost  to  madness.  To 
be  indebted  to  such  a  fellow  at  any  rate,  had  stuck  much 
in  his  stomach,  and  had  given  him  very  great  uneasiness ; 
but  to  answer  this  demand  in  any  other  manner  than  by 
paying  the  money  was  absolutely  what  he  could  not 
bear.  Again,  to  pay  this  money,  he  very  plainly  saw 
there  was  but  one  way ;  and  this  was,  by  stripping  his 
wife,  not  only  of  every  farthing,  but  almost  of  every  rag 
she  had  in  the  world — a  thought  so  dreadful,  that  it 
chilled  his  very  soul  with  horror  :  and  yet  pride  at  last 
seemed  to  represent  this  as  the  lesser  evil  of  the  two. 

But  how  to  do  this  was  still  a  question.  It  was  not 
sure,  at  least  he  feared  it  was  not,  that  Amelia  herself 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  461 

would  readily  consent  to  this  ;  and  so  far  from  persua- 
ding her  to  such  a  measure,  he  could  not  bear  even  to 
propose  it.  At  length  his  determination  was  to  acquaint 
his  wife  with  the  whole  affair,  and  to  ask  her  consent, 
by  way  of  asking  her  advice  ;  for  he  was  well  assured 
she  could  find  no  other  means  of  extricating  him  out  of 
his  dilemma.  This  he  accordingly  did,  representing  the 
affair  as  bad  as  he  could  ;  though,  indeed,  it  was  impos- 
sible for  him  to  aggravate  the  real  truth. 

Amelia  heard  him  patiently,  without  once  interrupting 
him.  When  he  had  finished,  she  remained  silent  some 
time  :  indeed,  the  shock  she  received  from  this  story 
almost  deprived  her  of  the  power  of  speaking.  At  last 
she  answered,  '*  Well,  my  dear,  you  ask  my  advice.  I 
certainly  can  give  no  other  than  that  the  money  mus-t 
be  paid." 

"  But  how  must  it  be  paid?"  cries  he.  *' Oh  heavens  f 
thou  sweetest  creature  !  what,  not  once  upbraid  me  for 
bringing  this  ruin  on  thee  ]" 

"  Upbraid  you,  my  dear  !"  says  she  ;  "  would  to  Hea- 
ven 1  could  prevent  your  upbraiding  yourself.  But  do 
not  despair :  I  wiii  endeavour  by  some  means  or  other 
to  get  y-ou  the  money." 

'*  Alas  !  my  dear  love,"  cries  Booth,  "  I  knovsr  the 
only  way  by  which  you  can  raise  it.  How  can  I  con- 
sent to  that  ■?  Do  you  forget  the  fears  you  so  lately 
■expressed,  of  what  would  be  our  wretched  condition, 
when  eur  little  all  was  mouldered  away  ]  Oh,  my  Ame- 
lia !  they  cut  ray  very  heart-strings  when  you  spoke 
them  ;  for  I  had  then  lost  this  little  all.  Indeed,  I  assure 
you,  I  have  not  played  since,  nor  ever  will  more." 

"Keep  that  resolution,"  said  she,  "my  dear,  and  I 
hope  we  shall  yet  recover  the  past."  At  which  words, 
casting  her  eyes  on  the  children,  the  tears  burst  from 
them,  and  she  cried,  "Heaven  will,  I  hope,  provide  for 
us." 

A  pathetic  scene  now  ensued  between  the  husband  and 
wife,  which  would  not,  perhaps,  please  many  readers 
to  see  drawn  at  too  full  a  length.  It  is  sufficient  to  say, 
that  this  excellent  woman  not  only  used  her  utmost  en- 
deavours to  stifle  and  conceal  her  own  concern,  but  said 
and  did  everything  in  her  power  to  allay  that  of  her 
husband. 

Booth  was,  at  this  time,  to  meet  a  person  whom  we 
have  formerly  mentioned  in  the  course  of  our  history. 
39* 


462  THE   HISTORY    OF  AMELIA. 

This  gentleman  had  a  place  in  the  war-ofRce,  and  pre- 
tended to  be  a  man  of  great  interest  and  consequence  ; 
by  which  means  he  did  not  only  receive  great  respect 
and  court  from  the  inferior  officers,  but  actually  bubbled 
several  of  their  money,  by  undertaiiing  to  do  them  ser- 
vices, which,  in  reality,  were  not  within  his  power.  In 
truth,  I  have  known  few  great  men  who  have  not  been 
beset  with  one  or  more  such  fellow-s  as  these,  through 
whonj  the  inferior  part  of  mankmd  are  obliged  to  make 
their  court  to  the  great  themselves  ;  by  which  means,  I 
believe,  principally,  persons  of  real  merit  have  been 
often  deterred  from  the  attempt ;  for  these  subaltern 
coxcombs  ever  assume  an  equal  state  with  their  masters, 
and  look  for  an  equal  degree  of  respect  to  be  paid  to  them, 
to  which  men  of  spirit,  who  are  in  every  light  their  bet- 
ters, are  not  easily  brought  to  submit.  These  fellows, 
indeed,  themselves  have  a  jealous  eye  towards  all  great 
abilities,  and  are  sure,  to  the  utmost  of  their  power,  to 
keep  all  who  are  so  endowed  from  the  presence  of  their 
masters.  They  use  their  masters  as  bad  ministers  have 
sometimes  used  a  prince ;  they  keep  all  men  of  merit 
from  his  ears,  and  daily  sacrifice  his  true  honour  and 
interest  to  their  own  profit  and  their  own  vanity. 

As  soon  as  Booth  was  gone  to  his  appointment  with 
this  man,  Amelia  immediately  betook  herself  to  her 
business  with  the  highest  resolution.  She  packed  up 
not  only  her  own  little  trinkets,  and  those  of  the  children, 
but  the  greater  part  of  her  own  poor  clothes;  (for  she 
was  but  barely  provided  ;)  and  then  drove  in  a  hackney- 
coach  to  the  same  pawnbroker's  who  had  before  been 
recommended  to  her  by  Mrs.  Atkinson,  who  advanced 
her  the  money  she  desired. 

Being  now  provided  with  her  sum,  she  returned  well 
pleased  home  ;  and  her  husband  coming  in  soon  after, 
she  with  much  cheerfulness  delivered  him  all  the  money. 

Booth  was  so  overjoyed  with  the  prospect  of  dis- 
charging his  debt  to  Trent,  that  he  did  not  perfectly 
retlect  on  the  distress  to  which  his  family  was  now  re- 
duced. The  good-humour  which  appeared  in  the  coun- 
tenance of  Amelia  was,  perhaps,  another  help  to  stifle 
those  reflections  ;  but,  above  all,  were  the  assurances  he 
had  received  from  the  great  man,  whom  he  had  met  at 
u  coffee-house,  and  who  had  promised  to  do  him  all 
the  service  in  his  power,  which  several  half-pay  subaltern 
officers  assured  him  was  very  considerable. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  463 

With  this  comfortable  news  he  acquainted  his  wife, 
who  either  was,  or  seemed  to  be,  extremely  well 
pleased  with  it :  and  now  he  set  out,  with  the  money  in 
his  pocket,  to  pay  his  friend  Trent,  who,  unluckily  for 
him,  happened  not  to  be  at  home. 

On  his  return  home,  he  met  his  old  friend  the  lieu- 
tenant, who  thankfully  paid  him  his  crown,  and  insisted 
on  his  going  with  him  and  taking  part  of  a  bottle.  This 
invitation  was  so  eager  and  pressing,  that  poor  Booth, 
who  could  not  resist  much  importunity,  complied. 

While  they  were  over  this  bottle,  Booth  acquainted 
his  friend  with  the  promises  he  had  received  that  after- 
noon at  the  coffee-house,  with  which  the  old  gentleman 
was  very  well  pleased ;  "  for  1  have  heard,"  says  he, 
"  that  gentleman  has  very  powerful  interest ;"  but  he 
informed  him,  likewise,  that  he  had  heard  the  great  man 
must  be  touched ;  for  he  never  did  anything  without 
touching.  Of  this,  indeed,  the  great  man  himself  had 
given  some  oblique  hints,  by  sayuig,  with  great  sagacity 
and  slyness,  that  he  knew  where  fifty  pounds  might  be 
deposited  to  much  advantage. 

Booth  answered  that  he  would  very  readily  advance 
a  small  sum  if  he  had  it  in  his  power,  but  that  at  pres- 
ent it  was  not  so;  for  that  he  had  no  more  in  the  world 
than  the  sum  of  fifty  pounds,  which  he  owed  Trent, 
and  which  he  intended  to  pay  him  the  next  morning. 

"It  is  very  right,  undoubtedly,  to  pay  your  debts," 
says  the  old  gentleman ;  "  but  sure,  on  such  an  occa- 
sion, any  man  but  the  rankest  usurer  would  be  con- 
tented to  stay  a  little  while  for  his  money ;  and  it  will 
be  only  a  little  while,  I  am  convinced ;  for  if  you  de- 
posite  this  sum  in  the  great  man's  hands,  I  make  no 
doubt  but  you  will  succeed  immediately  in  getting  your 
commission ;  and  then  I  will  help  you  to  a  method  of 
taking  up  such  a  sum  as  this."  The  old  gentleman  per- 
sisted in  this  advice,  and  backed  it  with  every  argument 
he  could  invent;  declaring,  as  was  indeed  true,  that  he 
gave  the  same  advice  which  he  would  pursue,  was  the 
case  his  own. 

Booth  long  rejected  the  opinion  of  his  friend,  till,  as 
they  had  not  argued  with  dry  lips,  he  became  heated 
with  wine,  and  then  at  last  the  old  gentleman  succeeded. 
Indeed,  such  was  his  love,  either  for  Booth  or  for  his  own 
opinion,  and  perhaps  for  both,  that  he  omitted  nothing  in 
his  power ;  he  even  endeavoured  to  palliate  the  char- 


464  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

acter  of  Trent,  and  unsaid  half  what  he  had  before  said 
of  that  gentleman,  in  the  end,  he  undertook  to  make 
Trent  easy,  and  to  go  to  him  the  very  next  n^ormng  for 
that  purpose. 

Poor  Booth  at  last  yielded,  though  with  the  utmost 
difficulty.  Indeed,  had  he  known  quite  as  much  of 
Trent  as  the  reader  does,  no  motive  whatsoever  would 
have  prevailed  on  him  to  have  taken  the  old  gentleman'? 
advice. 


Chapter  V. — Containing  more  wormwood  and  other  ingredients. 

In  the  morning  Booth  communicated  the  matter  to 
Amelia,  who  told  him  she  would  not  presume  to  advise 
him  in  an  affair  of  which  he  was  so  much  the  better 
judge. 

While  Booth  remained  in  a  doubtful  state  what  con- 
duct to  pursue,  Bound  came  to  make  him  a  visit,  and 
informed  him  that  he  had  been  at  Trent's  house,  but 
found  him  not  at  home  ;  adding,  that  he  would  pay  him 
a  second  visit  that  very  day,  and  would  not  rest  till  he 
found  him. 

Booth  was  ashamed  to  confess  his  wavering  resolu- 
tion, in  an  affair  in  which  he  had  been  so  troublesome 
to  his  friend  :  he  therefore  dressed  himself  immediately, 
and  together  they  both  went,  to  wait  on  the  little  great 
man,  to  whom  Booth  now  hoped  to  pay  his  court  in  the 
most  effectual  manner. 

Bound  had  been  longer  acquainted  with  the  modern 
methods  of  business  than  Booth ;  he  advised  his  friend, 
therefore,  to  begin  with  tipping,  as  it  is  called,  the  great 
man's  servant.  He  did  so,  and  by  that  means  got 
speedy  access  to  the  master. 

The  great  man  received  the  money,  not  as  a  gudgeon 
d,oes  a  bait,  but  as  a  pi^e  receives  a  poor  gudgeon  into 
his  maw.  To  say  the  truth,  such  fellows  as  these  may 
well  be  likened  to  that  voracious  fish,  who  fattens  him- 
self by  devouring  all  the  little  inhabitants  of  the  riyer. 
As  soon  as  the  great  man  had  pocketed  the  cash,  he 
shook  Booth  by  the  hand,  and  told  him  he  would  be 
sure  to  slip  no  opportunity  of  serving  him,  and  would 
send  him  word  as  soon  as  any  offered. 

Here  I  shall  stop  one  rjioment,  and  so,  perhaps,  will 


THE   HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  465 

my  good-natured  reader  ;  for,  surely,  it  must  be  a  hard 
heart  which  is  not  affected  with  reflecting  on  the  man- 
ner in  which  this  poor  little  sum  was  raised,  and  on  the 
manner  in  which  it  was  bestowed ;  a  worthy  family, 
the  wife  and  children  of  a  man  who  had  lost  his  blood 
abroad  in  the  service  of  his  country,  parting  with  their 
little  all,  and  exposed  to  cold  and  hunger,  to  pamper 
such  a  fellow  as  this  ! 

And  if  any  such  reader  as  I  mention  should  happen 
to  be  in  reality  a  great  man,  and  in  power,  perhaps  the 
horror  of  this  picture  may  induce  him  to  put  a  final  end 
to  this  abominable  practice  of  touching,  as  it  is  called ; 
by  which,  indeed,  a  set  of  leeches  are  permitted  to  suck 
the  blood  of  the  brave  and  the  indigent,  of  the  widow 
and  the  orphan. 

Booth  now  returned  home,  where  he  found  his  wife 
with  Mrs.  James.  Amelia  had,  before  the  arrival  of  her 
husband,  absolutely  refused  Mrs.  James's  invitation  to 
dinner  the  next  day ;  but  when  Booth  came  in,  the  lady 
renewed  her  application,  and  that  in  so  pressing  a  man- 
ner, that  Booth  seconded  her ;  for  though  he  had  enough 
of  jealousy  in  his  temper,  yet  such  was  his  friendship 
to  the  colonel,  and  such  his  gratitude  for  the  obligations 
which  he  had  received  from  him,  that  his  own  unwilling- 
ness to  believe  anything  ill  of  him  co-operating  with 
Amelia's  endeavours  to  put  everything  in  the  fairest 
light,  had  brought  him  to  acquit  his  friend  of  any  ill 
design.  To  this,  perhaps,  the  late  affair  concerning  my 
lord  had  moreover  contributed ;  for  it  seems  to  me  that 
the  same  passion  cannot  much  energize  on  two  differ- 
ent objects  at  one  and  the  same  time ;  an  observation 
ivhich,  I  believe,  will  hold  as  true  with  regard  to  the 
cruel  passions  of  jealousy  and  anger,  as  to  the  gentle 
passion  of  love,  in  which  one  great  and  mihgty  object 
is  sure  to  engage  the  whole  passion. 

When  Booth  grew  importunate,  Amelia  answered, 
"  My  dear,  I  should  not  refuse  you  whatever  was  in  my 
power;  but  this  is  absolutely  out  of  my  power;  for, 
since  I  must  declare  the  truth,  I  cannot  dress  myself." 

"  Why  so  ?"  said  Mrs.  James :  "  I  am  sure  you  are  in 
good  health." 

"Is  there  no  other  impediment  to  dressing  but  want 
of  health,  madam?"  answered  Amelia. 

"  Upon  niy  word,  none  that  I  know  of,"  replied  Mrs. 
James. 

U3 


466  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

*'  What  do  you  think  of  want  of  clothes,  madam  1" 
said  Amelia. 

"Ridiculous  !"  cries  Mrs.  James.  "  What  need  have 
you  to  dress  yourself  out  ?  You  will  see  nobody  but 
our  own  family,  and  I  promise  you  I  don't  expect  it. 
A  plain  night-gown  will  do  very  well." 

"  But  iff  must  be  plain  with  you,  madam,"  said  Ame- 
lia, "  I  have  no  other  clothes  but  what  I  have  now  on 
my  back.  I  have  not  even  a  clean  shift  in  the  world  ; 
for  )ou  must  know,  my  dear,"  said  she  to  Booth,  "  that 
little  Betty  has  walked  off  this  morning,  and  has  carried 
all  my  linen  with  her." 

"  How,  my  dear  !"  cries  Booth,  "  little  Betty  robbed 
you  r' 

"  It  is  even  so,"  answered  Amelia.  Indeed,  she  spoke 
truth  ;  for  little  Betty,  having  perceived,  the  evening  be- 
fore, that  her  mistress  was  moving  her  goods,  was  wil- 
ling to  lend  all  the  assistance  in  her  power,  and  had  ac- 
cordingly moved  off  early  that  morning,  taking  with  her 
whatever  she  could  lay  her  hands  on. 

Booth  expressed  himself  with  some  passion  on  the 
occasion,  and  swore  he  would  make  an  example  of  the 
girl.  "  If  the  little  slut  be  above  ground,"  cried  he,  "  I 
will  find  her  out,  and  bring  her  to  justice." 

"  I  am  really  sorry  for  this  accident,"  said  Mrs.  James ; 
"  and,  though  I  know  not  how  to  mention  it,  I  beg  you'll 
give  me  leave  to  offer  you  any  linen  of  mine,  till  you  can 
make  new  of  your  own." 

Amelia  thanked  Mrs.  James,  but  declined  the  favour, 
saying  she  should  do  well  enough  at  home ;  and  that,  as 
she  had  no  servant  now  to  take  care  of  her  children, 
she  could  not,  nor  would  not,  leave  them  on  any  ac- 
count. 

"  Then  bring  master  and  miss  with  you,"  said  Mrs. 
James;  "you  shall  positively  dine  with  us  to-morrow." 

"  1  beg,  madam,  you  will  mention  it  no  more,"  said 
Amelia :  "  for  besides  the  substantial  reasons  I  have 
already  given,  I  have  some  things  on  my  mind  at  pres^ 
ent  which  make  me  unfit  for  company ;  and  1  am  re- 
solved nothing  shall  prevail  on  me  to  stir  from  home." 

Mrs.  James  had  carried  her  invitation  already  to  the 
very  utmost  limits  of  good-breeding,  if  not  beyond  them. 
She  desisted,  therefore,  from  going  any  further;  and, 
after  some  short  stay  longer,  took  her  leave,  with  many 
•Hxpressions  of  concern,  which,  however,  great  as  it  was, 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  467 

left  her  heart  and  her  mouth  together  before  she  was 
out  of  the  house. 

Booth  now  declared  that  he  would  go  in  pursuit  of 
little  Betty,  against  whom  he  vowed  so  much  ven- 
geance, that  Amelia  endeavoured  to  moderate  his  anger, 
by  representing  to  him  the  girl's  youth,  and  that  this 
was  the  first  fault  she  had  ever  been  guilty  of.  "  In- 
deed," said  she,  "  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  my 
things  again,  and  I  would  have  the  girl  too  punished  in 
some  degree,  which  might  possibly  be  for  her  own 
good  ;  but  1  tremble  to  think  of  taking  away  her  life  ;" 
for  Booth,  in  his  rage,  had  sworn  he  would  hang  her. 

"  I  know  the  tenderness  of  your  heart,  my  dear,"  said 
Booth  ;  ''  and  I  love  you  for  it ;  but  I  must  beg  leave  to 
dissent  from  your  opinion.  I  do  not  tliink  the  girl  in 
any  light  an  object  of  mercy.  She  is  not  only  guilty  of 
dishonesty,  but  of  cruelty ;  for  she  must  know  our  situa- 
tion, and  the  very  httle  we  had  left.  She  is,  besides, 
guilty  of  ingratitude  to  you,  who  have  treated  her  with 
so  much  kindness,  that  you  have  rather  acted  the  part 
of  a  mother  than  a  mistress  ;  and  so  far  from  thinking 
her  youth  an  excuse,  I  think  it  rather  an  aggravation.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  there  are  faults  which  the  youth  of  the 
party  very  strongly  recommends  to  our  pardon:  such 
are  all  those  which  proceed  from  carelessness  and  want 
of  thought ;  but  crimes  of  this  black  die,  which  are  com- 
mitted with  deliberation,  and  imply  a  bad  mind,  deserve 
a  more  severe  punishment  in  a  young  person  than  one 
of  riper  years;  for  what  must  the  mind  be  in  old  age, 
which  has  acquired  such  a  degree  of  perfection  in  vil- 
lany  so  very  early  i  Such  persons  as  these  it  is  really 
a  charity  to  the  public  to  put  out  of  society :  and,  in- 
deed, a  religious  man  would  put  them  out  of  the  world 
for  the  sake  of  themselves  ;  for  whoever  understands 
anything  of  human  nature,  must  know  that  such  people, 
the  longer  they  live,  the  more  they*will  accumulate  vice 
and  wickedness." 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  cries  Amelia,  "  I  cannot  argue  with 
you  on  these  subjects.  I  shall  always  submit  to  your 
superior  judgment ;  and  I  know  you  too  well,  to  think 
that  you  will  ever  do  anything  cruel." 

Booth  then  left  Amelia  to  take  care  of  her  children, 
and  went  in  pursuit  of  the  thief. 


468  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 


Chapter  VI.— A  scene  of  the  tragic  kind. 

He  had  not  been  long  gone  before  a  thundering  knock 

was  heard  at  the  door  of  the  house  where  Araeha  lodged, 
and  presently  after,  a  figure,  all  pale  and  ghastly,  and 
almost  breathless,  rushed  mto  the  room  where  she  then 
was  with  her  children. 

This  figure  Anieha  soon  recognised  to  be  Mrs.  Atkin- 
son, though,  indeed,  she  was  so  disguised,  that  at  her 
first  entrance  Amelia  scarce  knew  her.  Her  eyes  were 
sunk  in  her  head,  her  hair  dishevelled;  and  not  only  her 
dress,  but  every  feature  in  her  face  was  in  the  utmost 
disorder. 

Amelia  was  greatly  shocked  at  this  sight,  and  the  lit- 
tle girl  was  much  frightened :  as  for  the  boy,  he  imme- 
diately knew  her,  and  running  to  Amelia,  he  cried,  "  La! 
mamma,  what  is  the  matter  with  poor  Mrs.  Atkinson  ?" 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Atkinson  recovered  her  breath,  she 
cried  out,  "  Oh,  Mrs.  Booth !  I  am  the  most  miserable 
of  women  ;  I  have  lost  the  best  of  husbands." 

Amelia,  looking  at  her  with  all  the  tenderness  imagin- 
able, forgetting,  1  believe,  that  there  had  ever  been  any 
quarrel  between  them,  said,  "  Good  heavens,  madam, 
what's  the  matter  V 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Booth  !"  answered  she,  "  I  fear  I  have  lost 
my  husband.  The  doctor  says  there  is  but  little  hope 
of  his  life.  Oh,  madam !  however  I  have  been  in  the 
wrong,  I  am  sure  you  will  forgive  me  and  pity  me.  I 
am  sure  I  am  severely  punished ;  for  to  that  cursed  af- 
fair I  owe  all  my  misery." 

"Indeed,  madam,"  cries  Amelia,  "I  am  extremely 
concerned  for  your  misfortune  :  but,  pray,  tell  me,  has 
anything  happened  to  the  sergeant  1" 

"  Oh,  madam  !"  cries  she,  "  I  have  the  greatest  reason 
to  fear  1  shall  lose  him.  The  doctor  has  almost  given 
him  over :  he  says  he  has  scarce  any  hopes.  Oh, 
madam!  that  evening  that  the  fatal  quarrel  happened 
between  us,  my  dear  captain  took  it  so  to  heart,  that  he 
sat  up  all  night,  and  drank  a  whole  bottle  of  brandy.  In- 
deed, he  said  he  wished  to  kill  himself;  for  nothing 
could  have  hurt  him  so  much  in  the  world,  he  said,  as 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  469 

to  have  any  quarrel  between  you  and  me.  His  concern, 
and  what  he  drank  together,  threw  him  into  a  high  fe- 
ver; so  that,  when  I  came  home  from  my  lord's,  (for  in- 
deed, madam,  1  have  been  and  set  all  to  rights  ;  your 
reputation  is  now  in  no  danger) — when  I  came  home,  I 
say,  I  found  the  poor  man  ni  a  raving  delirious  fit,  and 
in  that  he  has  continued  ever  since,  till  about  an  hour 
ago,  when  he  came  perfectly  to  his  senses  :  but  now,  he 
says,  he  is  sure  he  shall  die,  and  begs,  for  Heaven's  sake, 
to  see  you  first.  Would  you,  madam,  would  you  have 
the  goodness  to  grant  my  poor  captain's  desire  1  Con- 
sider, he  is  a  dying  man,  and  neither  he  nor  I  shall  ever 
ask  you  a  second  favour.  He  says  he  has  something  to 
say  to  you  that  he  can  mention  to  no  other  person,  and 
that  he  cannot  die  in  peace  unless  he  sees  you," 

"  Upon  my  word,  madam,"  cries  Amelia,  "  I  am  ex- 
tremely concerned  at  what  you  tell  me.  I  knew  the 
poor  sergeant  from  his  infancy,  and  always  had  an  af- 
fection for  him,  as  I  think  him  to  be  one  of  the  best-na- 
tured  and  honestest  creatures  upon  earth.  I  am  sure, 
if  I  could  do  him  any  service — but  of  what  use  can  my 
going  be  V 

"  Of  the  highest  in  the  world,"  answered  Mrs.  Atkin- 
son. "  If  you  knew  how  earnestly  he  entreated  it,  how 
his  poor  breaking  heart  begged  to  see  you,  you  would 
not  refuse." 

"  Nay,  I  do  not  absolutely  refuse,"  cries  Amelia. 
"  Something  to  say  to  me  of  consequence,  and  that  he 
could  not  die  in  peace  unless  he  said  it — did  he  say  that, 
Mrs.  Atkinson  V 

"  Upon  my  honour  he  did,"  answered  she,  "  and  much 
more  than  I  have  related." 

"Well,  I  will  go  with  you," cries  Amelia;  "I  cannot 
guess  what  this  should  be  ;  but  I  will  go." 

Mrs.  Atkinson  then  poured  out  a  thousand  blessings 
and  thanksgivings;  and,  taking  hold  of  Amelia's  hand 
and  eagerly  kissing  it,  cried  out,  "  How  could  that  fury, 
passion,  drive  me  to  quarrel  with  such  a  creature  V 

Amelia  told  her  she  had  forgiven  and  forgotten  it; 
and  then,  calling  up  the  mistress  of  the  house,  and  com- 
mitting to  her  the  care  of  the  children,  she  cloaked 
herself  up  as  well  as  she  could,  and  set  out  with  Mrs. 
Atkinson. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  house,  Mrs.  Atkinson  said 
she  would  go  first,  and  give  the  captain  some  notice ; 
40 


470  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

for  that  if  Amelia  entered  the  room  unexpectedly  the 
surprise  might  have  an  ill  effect.  She  left  therefore 
Amelia  in  the  parlour,  and  proceeded  directly  up  stairs. 

Poor  Atkinson,  weak  and  bad  as  was  his  condition, 
no  sooner  heard  that  Amelia  was  come  than  he  discov- 
ered great  joy  in  his  countenance,  and  presently  after- 
ward she  was  introduced  to  him. 

Atkinson  exerted  his  utmost  strength  to  thank  her  for 
this  goodness  to  a  dying  man,  for  so  he  called  himself. 
He  said  he  should  not  have  presumed  to  give  her  this 
trouble,  had  he  not  had  something  which  he  thought  of 
consequence  to  say  to  her,  and  which  he  could  not  men- 
tion to  any  other  person.  He  then  desired  his  wife  to 
give  him  a  little  box,  of  which  he  always  kept  the  key 
himself,  and  afterward  begged  her  to  leave  the  room  for 
a  few  minutes,  at  which  neither  she  nor  Amelia  ex- 
pressed any  dissatisfaction. 

When  he  was  alone  with  Amelia, he  spoke  as  follows: 
"  This,  madam,  is  the  last  time  my  eyes  will  ever  behold 
what — do  pardon  me,  madam,  I  will  never  offend  you 
more."  Here  he  sunk  down  in  his  bed,  and  the  tears 
gushed  from  his  eyes. 

"  Why  should  you  fear  to  offend  me,  Joe  ?"  said  Ame- 
lia; "1  am  sure  you  never  did  anything  wiUingly  to 
offend  me." 

"No,  madam,"  answered  he.  "I  would  die  a  thou- 
sand times  before  I  would  have  ventured  it  in  the  small- 
est matter.  But — I  cannot  speak — and  yet  I  nmst. 
You  cannot  pardon  me ;  and  yet,  perhaps,  as  I  am  a 
dying  man,  and  never  shall  see  you  more — indeed,  if  I 
was  to  live  after  this  discovery,  1  should  never  dare  to 
look  you  in  the  face  again — and  yet,  madam,  to  think 
I  shall  never  see  you  more  is  worse  than  ten  thousand 
deaths." 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Atkinson,"  cries  Amelia,  blushing,  and 
looking  down  to  the  floor,  "  I  must  not  hear  you  talk  in 
this  manner.  If  you  have  anything  to  say,  tell  it  me, 
and  do  not  be  afraid  of  my  anger;  for  I  think  I  may 
promise  to  forgive  whatever  it  was  possible  you  should 
do." 

"  Here  then,  madam,"  said  he,  "  is  your  picture.  I 
stole  it  when  I  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  have  kept 
it  ever  since.  It  is  set  in  gold,  with  three  little  dia- 
monds ;  and  yet  I  can  truly  say,  it  was  not  the  gold  nor 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  471 

the  diamonds  which  I  stole :  it  was  that  face  ;  which,  if 
I  had  been  the  emperor  of  the  world — " 

"  I  must  not  hear  any  more  of  this,"  said  she.  "  Com- 
fort yourself,  Joe,  and  think  no  more  of  this  matter.  Be 
assured  I  freely  and  heartily  forgive  you.  But  pray 
compose  yourself.     Come,  let  me  call  in  your  wife." 

"  First,  madam,  let  me  beg  one  favour,"  cried  he. 
"  Consider  it  is  the  last,  and  then  I  shall  die  in  peace. 
Let  me  kiss  that  hand  before  I  die." 

"  Well ;  nay,"  says  she,  "  I  don't  know  what  I  am 
doing;  well — there."  She  then  carelessly  gave  him  her 
hand,  which  he  put  gently  to  his  lips,  and  then  presently 
let  it  drop,  and  fell  back  in  the  bed. 

Amelia  now  summoned  Mrs.  Atkinson,  who  was, 
indeed,  no  farther  off  than  just  without  the  door.  She 
then  hastened  down  stairs  and  called  for  a  great  glass  of 
water,  which  having  drunk  off,  she  threw  herself  into 
a  chair,  and  the  tears  ran  plentifully  from  her  eyes  with 
compassion  for  the  poor  wretch  she  had  just  left  in  his 
bed. 

To  say  the  truth,  without  any  injury  to  her  chastity, 
that  heart,  which  had  stood  firm  as  a  rock  to  all  the 
attacks  of  title  and  equipage,  of  finery  and  flattery,  and 
vi^hich  all  the  treasures  of  the  universe  could  not  have 
purchased,  was  yet  a  little  softened  by  the  plain,  honest, 
modest,  involuntary,  delicate,  heroic  passion  of  this  poor 
and  humble  swain;  for  whom,  in  spite  of  herself,  she 
felt  a  momentary  tenderness  and  complacence,  at  which 
Booth,  if  he  had  known  it,  would  perhaps  have  been  dis- 
pleased. 

Having  stayed  some  time  in  the  parlour,  and  not  finding 
Mrs.  Atkinson  come  down,  (for  indeed  her  husband  was 
then  so  bad  she  could  not  quit  him,)  Amelia  left  a  mes- 
sage with  the  maid  of  the  house  for  her  mistress,  pur- 
porting that  she  should  be  ready  to  do  anything  in  her 
power  to  serve  her ;  and  then  left  the  house,  with  a  con- 
fusion on  her  mind  that  she  had  never  felt  before,  and 
which  any  chastity  that  is  not  hewn  out  of  marble  must 
feel  on  so  tender  and  delicate  an  occasion. 


472  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 


Chapter  VII.— In  which  Mr.  Booth  meets  with  more  than  one 

adventure. 

Booth,  having  hunted  about  for  two  hours,  at  last  saw 
a  young  lady  in  a  tattered  silk  gown,  stepping  out  of  a 
shop  in  Monmouth-street  into  a  hackney-coach.  This 
lady,  notwithstanding  the  disguise  of  her  dress,  he  pres- 
ently discovered  to  be  no  other  than  little  Betty. 

He  instantly  gave  the  alarm  of  "  Stop  thief,  stop 
coach !"  upon  which  Mrs.  Betty  was  immediately  stopped 
in  her  vehicle,  and  Booth  and  his  myrmidons  laid  hold 
of  her. 

The  girl  no  sooner  found  that  she  was  seized  by  her 
master,  than  the  consciousness  of  her  guilt  overpowered 
her,  for  she  was  not  as  yet  an  experienced  offender,  and 
she  immediately  confessed  her  crime. 

She  was  then  carried  before  a  justice  of  peace,  where 
she  was  searched,  and  there  was  found  in  her  possession 
four  shillings  and  sixpence  in  money,  besides  the  silk 
gown,  which  was  indeed  proper  furniture  for  Rag  Fair, 
and  scarce  worth  a  single  farthing,  though  the  honest 
shopkeeper  in  xMonmouth-street  had  sold  it  for  a  crown 
to  this  simple  girl. 

The  girl,  being  examined  by  the  magistrate,  spoke  as 
follows: — "Indeed,  sir,  an't  please  your  worship,  I  am 
very  sorry  for  what  I  have  done ;  and  to  be  sure,  an't 
please  your  honour,  my  lord,  it  must  have  been  the  devil 
that  put  me  upon  it;  for  to  be  sure,  please  your  ma- 
jesty, I  never  thought  upon  such  a  thing  in  my  whole 
life  before,  any  more  than  I  did  of  my  dying  day ;  but 
indeed,  sir,  an't  please  your  worship—" 

She  was  running  on  in  this  manner  when  the  justice 
interrupted  her.  and  desired  her  to  give  an  account  of 
what  she  had  taken  from  her  master,  and  what  she  had 
done  with  it. 

"  Indeed,  an't  please  your  niRJesty,"  said  she  "  I  took 
no  more  than  two  shifts  of  madam's,  and  I  pawned  them 
for  five  shillings,  which  I  gave  for  the  gown  that's  upon 
my  back ;  and  as  for  the  money  in  my  pocket,  it  is  every 
farthing  of  it  my  own.  1  am  sure  1  intended  to  cany 
back  the  shifts  too  as  soon  as  ever  I  could  get  money 
to  take  them  out." 

The   girl  having  told  them  where  the   pawnbroker 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  473 

lived,  the  justice  sent  to  him,  to  produce  the  shifts, 
which  he  presently  did ;  for  he  expected  thnt  a  war- 
rant to  search  his  house  would  be  the  consequence  of 
his  refusal. 

The  shifts  being  produced,  on  which  the  honest  pawn- 
broker had  lent  five  shillings,  they  appeared  plainly 
to  be  worth  above  thirty;  indeed,  when  new,  they  had 
cost  much  more  :  so  that  by  their  goodness,  as  well  as 
by  their  size,  it  was  certain  they  could  not  belong  to  the 
girl. 

Booth  grew  very  warm  against  the  pawnbroker.  "  I 
hope,  sir,"  said  he  to  the  justice, "  there  is  some  punish- 
ment for  this  fellow  likewise,  who  so  plainly  appears 
to  have  known  that  these  goods  were  stolen.  The 
shops  of  these  fellows  may,  indeed,  be  called  the  foun- 
tains of  theft ;  for  it  is,  in  reality,  the  encouragement 
which  they  meet  with  from  these  receivers  of  their 
goods  that  induces  men  very  often  to  become  thieves ; 
so  that  these  deserve  equal,  if  not  severer  punishment, 
than  the  thieves  themselves." 

The  pawnbroker  protested  his  innocence,  and  denied 
the  taking  in  the  shifts.  Indeed,  in  this  he  spoke  truth ; 
for  he  had  shpped  into  an  inner  room,  as  was  always 
his  custom  on  these  occasions,  and  left  a  little  boy  to  do 
the  business;  by  which  means  he  had  carried  on  the 
trade  of  receiving  stolen  goods  for  many  years  with  im- 
punity, and  had  been  twice  acquitted  at  the  Old  Bailey, 
though  the  juggle  appeared  upon  the  most  manifest 
evidence. 

As  the  justice  was  going  to  speak,  he  was  interrupted 
by  the  girl,  who,  falling  upon  her  knees  to  Booth,  with 
many  tears  begged  his  forgiveness. 

"  Indeed,  Betty,"  cries  Booth,  "  you  do  not  deserve 
forgiveness  ;  for  you  know  you  had  very  good  reasons 
why  you  should  not  have  thought  of  robbing  your  mis- 
tress, particularly  at  this  time :  and  what  further  aggra- 
vates your  crime  is,  that  you  have  robbed  the  best  and 
kindest  mistress  in  the  world.  Nay,  you  are  not  only 
guilty  of  felony,  but  of  a  felonious  breach  of  trust ;  for 
you  know  very  well,  everything  your  mistress  had  was 
intrusted  to  your  care." 

Now  it  happened,  by  very  great  accident,  that  the 
justice,   before   whom    the   girl    was    brought,   under- 
stood the  law.    Turning  therefore  to  Booth,  he  said, 
40* 


474  THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA. 

**Do  you  say,  sir,  that  this  girl  was  intrusted  with  the 
shifts  r' 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Booth ;  "  she  was  intrusted  with 
everything." 

"  And  will  you  swear  that  the  goods  stolen,"  said  the 
justice,  "  are  worth  forty  shillings "?" 

"  No,  indeed,  sir,"  answered  Booth,  "  nor  that  they 
are  worth  thirty  either." 

"  Then,  sir,"  cries  the  justice,  "  the  girl  cannot  be 
guilty  of  felony." 

*'  How,  sir,"  said  Booth,  "  is  it  not  a  breach  of  trust  1 
and  is  not  a  breach  of  trust  felony,  and  the  worst  felony 
too  r' 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  the  justice ;  "  a  breach  of  trust 
is  no  crime  in  our  law,  unless  it  be  in  a  servant;  and 
then  the  act  of  parliament  requires  the  goods  taken  to 
be  of  the  value  of  forty  shillings." 

"  So,  then,  a  servant,"  cries  Booth,  "  may  rob  his  mas- 
ter of  thirty-nine  shillings  whenever  he  pleases,  and  he 
can't  be  punished." 

"  If  the  goods  are  under  his  care,  he  can't,"  cries  the 
justice. 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  sir,"  says  Booth :  "  T  do  not 
doubt  what  you  say ;  but  sure  this  is  a  very  extraordi- 
nary law." 

"Perhaps  I  think  so  too,"  said  the  justice;  "but  it 
belongs  not  to  my  office  to  make  or  to  mend  laws : 
my  business  is  only  to  execute  them.  If,  therefore,  the 
case  be  as  you  say,  I  must  discharge  the  girl." 

"  I  hope,  however,  you  will  punish  the  pawnbroker," 
cries  Booth. 

"  If  the  girl  is  discharged,"  cries  the  justice,  "  so  must 
be  the  pawnbroker;  for,  if  the  goods  are  not  stolen,  he 
cannot  be  guilty  of  receiving  them,  knowing  them  to  be 
stolen  :  and  besides,  as  to  his  offence,  to  say  the  truth, 
I  am  almost  weary  of  prosecuting  it;  for  such  are  the 
difficulties  laid  in  the  way  of  this  prosecution,  that  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  convict  any  one  on  it :  and  to  speak 
my  opinion  plainly,  such  are  the  laws,  and  such  the 
method  of  proceeding,  that  one  would  almost  think  our 
laws  were  rather  made  for  the  protection  of  rogues, 
than  for  the  punishment  of  them." 

Thus  ended  this  examination :  the  thief  and  the  re- 
ceiver went  about  their  business,  and  Booth  departed,  in 
order  to  go  home  to  his  wife. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  475 

In  his  way  home  Booth  was  met  by  a  lady  in  a 
chair,  who,  immediately  upon  seeing  him,  stopped  her 
chair,  bolted  out  of  it,  and,  going  directly  up  to  him, 
said,  "  So,  Mr.  Booth,  you  have  kept  your  word  with 
me  !" 

This  lady  was  no  other  than  Miss  Matthews,  and  the 
speech  she  meant  was  of  a  promise  made  to  her  at  the 
masquerade,  of  visiting  her  within  a  day  or  two  ;  which 
whether  he  ever  intended  to  keep  I  cannot  say :  but,  in 
truth,  the  several  accidents  that  had  since  happened  to 
him  had  so  discomposed  his  mind,  that  he  had  abso- 
lutely forgotten  it. 

Booth,  however,  was  too  sensible  and  too  well-bred 
to  make  the  excuse  of  forgetfulness  to  a  lady  ;  nor  could 
he  readily  find  any  other.  While  he  stood,  therefore, 
hesitating,  and  looking  not  over-wise.  Miss  Matthews 
said,  "  Well,  sir,  since  by  your  confusion  I  see  you  have 
some  grace  left,  I  will  pardon  you  on  one  condition; 
and  that  is,  that  you  will  sup  with  me  this  night ;  but  if 
you  fail  me  now,  expect  all  the  revenge  of  an  injured 
woman."  She  then  bound  herself  by  a  most  outra- 
geous oath,  that  she  would  complain  to  his  wife  :  "And 
1  am  sure,"  says  she,  *'  she  is  so  much  a  woman  of 
honour  as  to  do  me  justice  :  and  though  I  miscarried 
in  my  first  attempt,  be  assured  I  will  take  care  of  my 
second." 

Booth  asked  what  she  meant  by  her  first  attempt; 
to  which  she  answered,  that  she  had  already  written  his 
wife  an  account  of  his  ill-usage  of  her,  but  that  she  was 
pleased  it  had  miscarried.  She  then  repeated  her  as- 
severations, that  she  would  now  do  it  effectually  if  he 
disappointed  her. 

This  threat  she  reckoned  would  most  certainly  terrify 
poor  Booth ;  and,  indeed,  she  was  not  mistaken ;  for  I 
believe  it  would  have  been  impossible,  by  any  other 
menace,  or  by  any  other  means,  to  have  brouglit  him 
once  even  to  balance  in  his  mind  on  this  question.  But 
by  this  threat  she  prevailed  ;  and  Booth  promised,  upon 
his  word  and  honour,  to  come  to  her  at  the  hour  she 
appointed :  after  which,  she  took  leave  of  him  with  a 
squeeze  of  the  hand,  and  a  smiling  countenance,  and 
walked  back  to  her  chair. 

But,  however  she  might  be  pleased  with  having  ob- 
tained this  promise.  Booth  was  far  from  being  delighted 
with  the  thoughts  of  having  given  it.    He  looked,  in- 


476  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

deed,  upon  the  consequences  of  this  meeting  with  hor- 
ror;  but,  as  to  the  consequence  which  was  so  apparently- 
intended  by  the  lady,  he  resolved  against  it.  At  length, 
he  canie  to  this  determination;  to  go  according  to  his 
appointment,  to  argue  the  matter  with  the  lady,  and  to 
convince  her,  if  possible,  that,  from  a  regard  to  his  hon- 
our only,  he  must  discontinue  her  acquaintance.  If  this 
failed  to  satisfy  her,  and  she  still  persisted  in  her  threats 
to  acquaint  his  wife  with  the  affair,  he  then  resolved, 
whatever  pain  it  cost  him,  to  communicate  the  whole 
truth  himself  to  Amelia,  from  whose  goodness  he 
doubted  not  but  to  obtain  an  absolute  remission. 


Chapter  VIII.— In  which  Amelia  appears  in  alight  more  amiable 
than  gay. 

We  will  now  return  to  Amelia,  whom  we  left  in 
some  perturbation  of  mind  departing  from  Mrs.  Atkin- 
son. 

Though  she  had  before  walked  through  the  streets  in 
a  very  improper  dress  with  Mrs.  Atkinson,  she  was  un- 
willing, especially  as  she  was  alone,  to  return  in  the 
same  manner :  indeed,  she  was  scarce  able  to  walk  in  her 
present  condition;  for  the  case  of  poor  Atkinson  had 
much  affected  her  tender  heart,  and  her  eyes  had  over- 
flown with  many  tears. 

It  occurred  likewise  to  her  at  present,  that  she  had 
not  a  single  shilling  in  her  pocket,  or  at  home,  to  pro- 
vide food  for  herself  and  her  family.  In  this  situation 
she  resolved  to  go  immediately  to  the  pawnbroker, 
whither  she  had  gone  before,  and  to  deposite  her  picture 
for  what  she  could  r^ise  upon  it.  She  then  immediately 
took  a  chair,  and  put  her  design  in  execution. 

The  intrinsic  value  of  the  gold  in  which  this  picture 
was  set,  and  of  the  little  diamonds  which  surrounded  it, 
amounted  to  nine  guineas.  ""I'his,  therefore,  was  advanced 
to  her;  and  the  prettiest  face  in  the  world  (such  is  often 
the  fate  of  beauty)  was  deposited,  as  of  no  value,  into 
the  bargain. 

When  she  came  home,  she  found  the  following  letter 
from  Mrs.  Atkinson  : — 

"Mr  Dearest  Madam, 

As  I  know  your  goodness,  I  could  not  delay  a  moment  acquaint- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  477 

ing  you  with  the  happy  turn  of  my  affairs  since  you  went.  The 
doctor,  on  his  return  to  visit  my  husband,  has  assured  me  that  the 
captain  was  on  the  recovery,  and  in  very  little  danger ;  and  I  really 
thmk  he  is  since  mended.  I  hope  to  wait  on  you  soon  with  better 
news.  Heaven  bless  you,  dear  madam  !  and  believe  me  to  be,  with 
the  utmost  sincerity,  your  most  obliged,  obedient,  humble  servant, 

"Atkinson." 

Amelia  was  really  pleased  with  this  letter;  and  now, 
it  being-  past  four  o'clock,  she  despaired  of  seeing  her 
husband  till  the  evening:  she  therefore  provided  some 
tarts  for  her  children  ;  and  then  eating  nothing  but  a 
slice  of  bread  and  butter  herself,  she  began  to  prepare 
for  the  captain's  supper. 

Th<^re  were  two  things  of  which  her  husband  was 
particularly  fond,  which,  though  it  may  bring  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  taste  into  great  contempt  with  some  of  my 
readers,  I  will  venture  to  name :  these  were  a  fowl  and 
egg  sauce,  and  mutton  broth;  both  which  Amelia  imme- 
diately purchased. 

As  soon  as  the  clock  struck  seven,  the  good  creature 
went  down  into  the  kitchen,  and  began  to  exercise  her 
talents  of  cookery,  of  which  she  was  a  great  mistress, 
as  she  was  of  every  economical  office,  from  the  highest 
to  the  lowest ;  and  as  no  woman  could  outshine  her  in 
a  drawing-room,  so  none  could  make  the  drawing-room 
itself  shine  brighter  than  Amelia:  and,  if  I  may  speak  a 
bold  truth,  I  question  whether  it  be  possible  to  view 
this  fine  creature  in  a  more  amiable  light,  than  while 
she  was  dressing  her  husband's  supper,  with  her  little 
children  playing  round  her. 

It  was  now  half  an  hour  past  eight,  and  the  meat  al- 
most ready,  the  table  likewise  neatly  spread  with  ma- 
terials borrowed  from  her  landlady,  and  she  began  to 
grow  a  little  uneasy  at  Booth's  not  returning;  when  a 
sudden  knock  at  the  door  roused  her  spirits,  and  she 
cried,  "  There,  my  dear,  there  is  your  good  papa ;"  at 
which  words  she  darted  swiftly  up  stairs,  and  opened 
the  door  to  her  husband. 

She  desired  her  husband  to  walk  up  to  the  dining- 
room,  and  she  would  come  to  him  in  an  instant ;  for  she 
was  desirous  to  increase  his  pleasure,  by  surprising  him 
with  his  two  favourite  dishes.  She  then  went  down 
again  to  the  kitchen,  where  the  maid  of  the  house  un- 
dertook to  send  up  the  supper ;  and  she  with  her  chil- 
dren returned  to  Booth. 


478  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

He  then  told  her  concisely  what  had  happened  with 
relation  to  the  girl,  to  which  she  scarce  made  any  an- 
swer; but  asked  him  if  he  had  not  dined.  He  assured 
her  he  had  not  eaten  a  morsel  the  whole  day.  "  Well," 
says  she,  "  my  dear,  I  am  a  fellow-sufferer,  but  we  shall 
both  enjoy  our  supper  the  more;  for  I  have  made  a 
little  provision  for  you,  as  I  guessed  what  might  be  the 
case.  I  have  got  you  a  bottle  of  wine  too ;  and  here  is 
a  clean  cloth  and  a  smiling  countenance,  my  dear  Will. 
Indeed,  I  am  in  unusual  good  spirits  to-night,  and  Ihave 
made  a  promise  to  the  children,  which  you  must  con- 
firm ;  I  have  promised  to  let  them  sit  up  this  one  night 
to  supper  with  us.  Nay,  don't  look  so  serious;  cast  off 
all  uneasy  thoughts.  I  have  a  present  for  you  here  ; 
no  matter  how  I  came  by  it."  At  which  words,  she 
put  eight  guineas  into  his  hand,  crying, "  Come,  my  dear 
Bill,  be  gay:  Fortune  will  yet  be  kind  to  us:  at  least, 
let  us  be  happy  this  night.  Indeed,  the  pleasures  of 
many  women,  during  their  whole  lives,  will  not  amount 
to  my  happiness  this  night,  if  you  will  be  in  good  hu- 
mour." 

Booth  fetched  a  deep  sigh,  and  cried,  "  How  unhappy 
am  1,  my  dear,  that  I  can't  sup  with  you  to-night'" 

As  in  the  delightful  month  of  June,  when  the  sky  is 
all  serene,  and  the  whole  face  of  nature  looks  with  a 
pleasing  and  smiling  aspect,  suddenly  a  dark  cloud 
spreads  itself  over  the  hemisphere,  the  sun  vanishes 
from  our  sight,  and  every  object  is  obscured  by  a  dark 
and  horrid  gloom;  so  happened  it  to  Amelia:  the  joy 
that  had  enlightened  every  feature  disappeared  in  a  mo- 
ment ;  the  lustre  forsook  her  shining  eyes ;  and  all  the 
little  Loves,  that  played  and  wantoned  in  her  cheeks, 
hung  their  drooping  heads ;  and  with  a  faint,  trembling 
voice,  she  repeated  her  husband's  words,  "  Not  sup  with 
me  to-night,  my  dear!"' 

"Indeed,  my  dear,"  answered  he,  "I  cannot.  I  need 
not  tell  you  how  uneasy  it  makes  me,  or  that  I  am  as 
much  disappointed  as  yourself;  but  I  am  engaged  to 
sup  abroad.  I  have  absolutely  given  my  honour;  and 
besides,  it  is  on  business  of  importance." 

"  My  dear,"  said  she,  "  I  say  no  more :  I  am  con- 
vinced you  would  not  willingly  sup  from  me.  I  own, 
it  is  a  very  particular  disappointment  to  me  to-night, 
when  I  had  proposed  unusual  pleasure ;  but  the  same 
reason  which  is  sufficient  to  you  ought  to  be  so  to  me." 


THE    HISTORY  OF    AMELIA.  479 

Booth  made  his  wife  a  compliment  on  her  ready  com- 
pHance,  and  then  asked  her  what  she  intended  by  giv- 
ing him  that  money,  or  how  she  came  by  it. 

"I  intend,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "to  give  it  you;  that 
is  all.  As  to  the  manner  in  which  1  came  by  it,  you 
know,  Billy,  that  is  not  very  material.  You  are  well 
assured  1  got  it  by  no  means  which  would  displease 
you;  and,  perhaps,  another  time  I  may  tell  you." 

Booth  asked  no  further  questions ;  but  he  returned  it 
to  her,  and  insisted  on  her  taking  all  but  one  guinea, 
saying,  she  was  the  safest  treasurer. 

He  then  promised  her  to  make  all  the  haste  home  in 
his  power,  and  he  hoped,  he  said,  to  be  with  her  in  an 
hour  and  a  half  at  farthest,  and  then  took  his  leave. 

When  he  was  gone,  the  poor  disappointed  Amelia  sat 
down  to  supper  with  her  children,  with  whose  company 
she  was  forced  to  console  herself  for  the  absence  of  heV 
husband. 


Chapter  IX.— A  very  tragic  scene. 

The  clock  had  struck  eleven,  and  Amelia  was  just  pro- 
ceeding to  put  her  children  to  bed,  when  she  heard  a 
knock  at  the  street  door:  upon  which  the  boy  cried  out, 
"There's  papa,  mamma:  pray,  let  me  stay  and  see  him 
before  I  go  to  bed."  This  was  a  favour  very  easily  ob- 
tained ;  for  Amelia  instantly  ran  down  stairs,  exulting  in 
the  goodness  of  her  husband  for  returning  so  soon, 
though  half  an  hour  was  already  elapsed  beyond  the 
time  in  which  he  promised  to  return. 

Poor  Amelia  was  now  again  disappointed ;  for  it  was 
not  her  husband  at  the  door,  but  a  servant  with  a  letter 
for  him,  which  he  delivered  into  her  hands.  She  imme- 
diately returned  up  stairs,  and  said,  "it  was  not  your 
papa,  my  dear;  but  I  hope  it  is  one  who  has  brought  us 
some  good  news :"  for  Booth  had  told  her  that  he  hourly 
expected  to  receive  such  from  the  great  man,  and  had 
desired  her  to  open  any  letter  which  came  to  him  in  his 
absence. 

Amelia  therefore  broke  open  the  letter,  and  read  as 
follows : — 

•'Sir, 
"  After  what  has  passed  between  us,  I  need  only  tell  you  that  I 


480  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

know  you  supped  this  very  night  alone  with  Miss  Matthews;  a 
fact  which  will  upbraid  you  sufficiently,  without  putting  me  to  that 
trouble  ;  and  will  very  well  account  for  my  desiring  the  favour  of 
seeing  you  to-morrow  in  Hyde  Park,  at  six  in  the  morning.  You 
will  forgive  me  reminding  you  once  more  how  inexcusable  this  be- 
haviour is  in  you,  who  are  possessed,  m  your  own  wife,  of  the  most 
inestimable  jewel.    Yours,  &c., 

"T.  James. 
"  I  shall  bring  pistols  with  me." 

It  is  not  easy  to  describe  the  agitation  of  Amelia's 
mind  when  she  read  this  letter.  She  threw  herself  into 
her  chair,  turned  as  pale  as  death,  began  to  tremble  all 
over,  and  had  just  power  enough  left  to  tap  the  bottle  of 
wine,  which  she  had  hitherto  preserved  entire  for  her 
husband,  and  to  drink  off  a  large  bumper. 

The  little  boy  perceived  the  strange  symptoms  which 
appeared  in  his  mother ;  and  running  to  her,  he  cried, 
"What's  the  matter,  my  dear  mamma?  you  don't  look 
well.  No  harm  has  happened  to  poor  papa,  I  hope :  sure 
that  bad  man  has  not  carried  him  away  again !" 

Amelia  answered,  "  No,  child,  nothing — nothing  at 
all."  And  then  a  large  shower  of  tears  came  to  her  as- 
sistance ;  which  presently  after  produced  the  same  in 
the  eyes  of  both  the  children. 

Amelia,  after  a  short  silence,  looking  tenderly  at  her 
children,  cried  out,  "  It  is  too  much,  too  much  to  bear. 
Why  did  I  bring  these  little  wretches  into  the  world  1 
why  were  these  innocents  born  to  such  a  fate?"  She 
then  threw  her  arms  round  them  both,  (for  they  were 
before  embracing  her  knees),  and  cried,  "  Oh,  my  chil- 
dren !  my  children !  forgive  me,  my  babes !  forgive  me, 
that  I  have  brought  you  into  such  a  world  as  this.  You 
are  undone — my  children  are  undone  !" 

The  little  boy  answered,  with  great  spirit,  "  How  un- 
done, mamma?  my  sister  and  I  don't  care  a  farthing  for 
being  undone.  Don't  cry  so  upon  our  accounts  :  we  are 
both  very  well ;  indeed  we  are  :  but,  do,  pray,  tell  us  :  I 
am  sure  some  accident  has  happened  to  poor  papa." 

"  Mention  him  no  more,"  cries  Amelia  :  "  your  papa  is 
— indeed  he  is  a  wicked  man  :  he  cares  not  for  any  of  us. 
Oh  heavens !  is  this  the  happiness  I  promised  myself 
this  evening?"  At  which  words  she  fell  into  an  agony, 
holding  both  her  children  in  her  arms. 

The  maid  of  the  house  now  entered  the  room  with 
a  letter  in  her  hand,  which  she  had  received  from  a 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  481 

porter,  whose  arrival  the  reader  will  not  wonder  to  have 
been  unheard  by  Amelia  in  her  present  condition. 

The  maid,  upon  her  entrance  into  the  room,  perceiv- 
ing the  situation  of  Amelia,  cried  out,  "  Good  heavens  ! 
madam,  what  is  the  matter?"  Upon  which,  Amelia, 
who  had  a  little  recovered  herself  after  the  last  vent  of 
her  passion,  started  up,  and  cried — "  Nothing,  Mrs.  Su- 
san ;  nothing  extraordinary.  I  am  subject  to  these  fits 
sometimes;  but  I  am  very  well  now.  Come,  my  dear 
children,  I  am  very  well  again;  indeed  I  am:  you  must 
now  go  to  bed ;  Mrs.  Susan  will  be  so  good  as  to  put  you 
to  bed." 

"  But  why  does  not  papa  love  us  ?"  cries  the  little  boy : 
*'  I  am  sure  we  have  none  of  us  done  anything  to  diso- 
blige him." 

This  innocent  question  of  the  child  so  stung  Amelia, 
that  she  had  the  utmost  difficulty  to  prevent  a  relapse. 
However,  she  took  another  dram  of  wine;  for  so  it 
might  be  called  to  her,  who  was  the  most  temperate  of 
women,  and  never  exceeded  three  glasses  on  any  occa- 
sion. In  this  glass  she  drank  her  children's  health  ;  and 
soon  after  so  well  soothed  and  composed  them,  that  they 
went  quietly  away  with  Mrs.  Susan. 

The  maid,  in  the  shock  she  had  conceived  at  the  mel- 
ancholy, indeed  frightful  scene,  which  had  presented  it- 
self to  her  at  her  first  coming  into  the  room,  had  quite 
forgotten  the  letter,  which  she  held  in  her  hand.  How- 
ever, just  at  her  departure,  she  recollected  it,  and  deliv- 
ered it  to  Amelia ;  who  was  no  sooner  alone,  than  she 
opened  it,  and  read  as  follows  : — 

"  My  Dearest,  sweetest  Love, 
"I  write  this  from  the  bailiff's  house,  where  I  was  formerly,  and 
to  which  1  am  again  brought  at  the  suit  of  that  villain  Trent.  I  have 
the  misfortune  to  think  I  owe  this  accident  (1  mean,  that  it  happened 
to-night)  to  my  own  folly,  in  endeavouring  to  keep  a  secret  from 
you.  Oh,  my  dear !  had  I  had  resolution  to  confess  my  crime  to  you, 
your  forgiveness  would,  I  am  convinced,  have  cost  me  only  a  few 
blushes,  and  I  had  now  been  happy  in  your  arms.  Fool  that  I  was, 
to  leave  you  on  such  an  account,  and  to  add  to  a  former  transgres- 
sion a  new  one  :  yet,  by  Heavens  !  I  mean  not  a  transgression  of  the 
like  kind  ;  for  of  that  1  am  not,  nor  ever  will  be  guilty  :  and  when 
you  know  the  true  reason  of  my  leaving  you  to-night,  I  think  you 
will  pity  rather  than  upbraid  me.  I  am  sure  you  would,  if  you 
knew  the  compunction  with  which  I  left  you  to  go  to  the  most 
worthless,  the  most  infamous—  Do  guess  the  rest ;  guess  that  crime 
with  which  I  cannot  stain  my  paper ;  but  still  believe  me  no  more 
guilty  than  I  am :  or,  if  it  will  lessen  your  vexation  at  what  has  be- 
41  X 


482  THE  HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

fallen  me,  believe  me  as  guilty  as  you  please,  and  think  me,  for  a 
while  at  least,  as  undeservmg  of  you  as  I  think  myself  This  paper 
and  pen  are  so  bad  I  question  whether  you  can  read  what  I  write  ;  I 
almost  doubt  whether  I  wish  you  should.  Yet  this  I  will  endeavour 
to  make  as  legible  as  I  can.  Be  comforted,  my  dear  love  ;  and  still 
keep  up  your  spirits  with  the  hope  of  better  days.  The  doctor  will 
be  in  town  to-morrow,  and  I  trust  on  his  goodness  for  my  delivery 
once  more  from  this  place,  and  that  I  shall  soon  be  able  to  repay 
him.  That  Heaven  may  bless  and  preserve  you,  is  the  prayer  of, 
my  dearest  love,  your  ever  fond,  aflFectionaie,  and  hereafter  faithful 
husband, 

"  W.  Booth." 

Amelia  pretty  well  guessed  the  obscure  meaning  of 
this  letter,  which,  though  at  another  time  it  might  have 
given  her  unspeakable  torment,  was  at  present  rather  of 
the  medicinal  kind,  and  served  to  allay  her  anguish.  Her 
anger  to  Booth  too  began  a  little  to  abate,  and  was  soft- 
ened by  her  concern  for  his  misfortune.  Upon  the 
whole,  however,  she  passed  a  miserable  and  sleepless 
night,  her  gentle  mind  torn  and  distracted  with  various 
and  contending  passions,  distressed  with  doubts,  and 
wandering  in  a  kind  of  twilight,  which  presented  to  her 
only  objects  of  different  degrees  of  horror,  and  where 
black  despair  closed,  at  a  small  distance,  the  gloomy 
prospect. 


BOOK   XII. 

Chapter  I.— The  book  begins  with  polite  history. 

Before  we  return  to  the  miserable  couple  whom  we 
left  at  the  end  of  the  last  book,  we  will  give  our  reader 
the  more  cheerful  view  of  the  gay  and  happy  family  of 
Colonel  James. 

Mrs.  .Tames,  when  she  could  not,  as  we  have  seen, 
prevail  with  Amelia  to  accept  that  invitation,  which,  at 
the  desire  of  the  colonel,  she  had  so  kindly  and  obedi- 
ently carried  her,  returned  to  her  husband,  and  ac- 
quainted him  with  the  ill  success  of  her  embassy,  at 
which,  to  say  the  truth,  she  was  almost  as  much  disap- 
pointed as  the  colonel  himself;  for  he  had  not  taken  a 
much  stronger  liking  to  Amelia  than  she  herself  had 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  483 

conceived  for  Booth.  This  will  account  for  some  pas- 
sages which  may  have  a  little  surprised  the  reader  in 
the  former  chapters  of  this  history,  as  we  were  not  then 
at  leisure  to  communicate  to  them  a  hint  of  this  kind  : 
it  was,  indeed,  on  Mr.  Booth's  account,  that  she  had 
been  at  the  trouble  of  changing  her  dress  at  the  masquer- 
ade. 

But  her  passions  of  this  sort,  happily  for  her,  were 
not  extremely  strong;  she  was  therefore  easily  balked; 
and  as  she  met  with  no  encouragement  from  Booth,  she 
soon  gave  way  to  the  impetuosity  of  Miss  Matthews; 
and,  from  that  time,  scarce  thought  more  of  the  affair 
till  her  husband's  design  against  the  wife  revived  hers 
likewise ;  insomuch,  that  her  passion  was,  at  this  time, 
certainly  strong  enough  for  Booth  to  produce  a  good 
hearty  hatred  for  Amelia,  whom  she  now  abused  to  the 
colonel  in  very  gross  terms,  both  on  the  account  of  her 
poverty  and  her  insolence  ;  for  so  she  termed  the  refu- 
sal of  all  her  offers. 

The  colonel,  seeing  no  hopes  of  soon  possessing  his 
new  mistress,  began,  like  a  prudent  and  wise  man,  to 
turn  his  thoughts  towards  the  securing  his  old  one. 
From  what  his  wife  had  mentioned  concerning  the  be- 
haviour of  the  shepherdess,  and  particularly  her  prefer- 
ence of  Booth,  he  had  httle  doubt  but  that  this  was  the 
identical  Miss  Matthews :  he  resolved,  therefore,  to 
watch  her  closely,  in  hopes  of  discovering  Booth's  in- 
trigue with  her.  In  this,  besides  the  remainder  of  affec- 
tion which  he  yet  preserved  for  that  lady,  he  had  an- 
other view,  as  it  would  give  him  a  fair  pretence  to  quar- 
rel with  Booth;  who,  by  carrying  on  this  intrigue,  would 
have  broken  his  word  and  honour  given  to  him  :  and  he 
now  began  to  hate  poor  Booth  heartily,  from  the  same 
reason  for  which  Mrs.  James  had  contracted  her  aver- 
sion to  Amelia. 

The  colonel  therefore  employed  an  inferior  kind  of 
pimp  to  watch  the  lodgings  of  Miss  Matthews,  and  to  ac- 
quaint him  if  Booth,  whose  person  was  known  to  the 
pimp,  made  any  visit  there. 

The  pimp  faithfully  performed  his  office;  and,  having 
last  night  made  the  wished-for  discovery,  immediately 
acquainted  his  master  with  it. 

Upon  this  news,  the  colonel  presently  despatched  to 
Booth  the  short  note  which  we  have  before  seen.  He 
sent  it  to  his  own  house  instead  of  Miss  Matthevvs's, 
X2 


484  THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

with  hopes  of  that  very  accident  which  actually  did  hap- 
pen :  not  that  he  had  any  ingredient  of  tiie  bully  in  him, 
and  desired  to  be  prevented  from  fighting;  but  with  a 
prospect  of  injuring  Booth  in  the  affection  and  esteem 
of  Amelia,  and  of  recommending  himself  somewhat  to 
her  by  appearing  in  the  light  of  her  champion  ;  for  which 
purpose  he  added  that  compliment  to  Amelia  in  his  let- 
ter. He  concluded,  upon  the  whole,  that  if  Booth  him- 
self opened  the  letter,  he  would  certainly  meet  him  the 
next  morning ;  but  if  his  wife  should  open  it  before  he 
came  home,  it  might  have  the  effects  before  mentioned; 
and  for  his  future  expostulation  with  Booth,  it  would  not 
be  in  Amelia's  power  to  prevent  it. 

Now  it  happened  that  this  pimp  had  more  masters 
than  one :  among  these  was  the  worthy  Mr.  Trent,  for 
whom  he  had  often  done  business  of  the  pimping  voca- 
tion :  he  had  been  employed,  indeed,  in  the  service  of 
the  great  peer  himself,  under  the  direction  of  the  said 
Trent ;  and  was  the  very  person  who  had  assisted  the 
said  Trent  in  dogging  Booth  and  his  wife  to  the  opera- 
house  on  the  masquerade  night. 

This  subaltern  pimp  was  with  his  superior,  Trent, 
yesterday  morning,  when  he  found  a  bailiff  with  him,  in 
order  to  receive  his  instructions  for  the  arresting  Booth ; 
when  the  baiUff  said,  it  would  be  a  very  difficult  matter 
to  take  him  ;  for  that,  to  his  knowledge,  he  was  as  shy 
a  cock  as  any  in  England.  The  subaltern  immediately 
acquainted  Trent  with  the  business  in  which  he  was  em- 
ployed by  the  colonel :  upon  which  Trent  enjoined  him, 
the  moment  he  had  set  him,  to  give  immediate  notice  to 
the  bailiff,  which  he  agreed  to,  and  performed  accordingly. 

The  baihff,  on  receiving  this  notice,  immediately  set 
out  for  his  stand  at  an  alehouse  within  three  doors  of 
Miss  Matthews's  lodgings ;  at  which,  unfortunately  for 
poor  Booth,  he  arrived  a  very  few  minutes  before  Booth 
left  that  lady  in  order  to  return  to  Amelia. 

These  were  several  matters  of  which  we  thought  it 
necessary  our  reader  should  be  informed ;  for,  besides 
that  it  conduces  greatly  to  a  perfect  understanding  of  all 
history,  there  is  no  exercise  of  the  mind  of  a  sensible 
reader  more  pleasant  than  the  tracing  the  several  small 
and  almost  imperceptible  links  in  every  chain  of  events, 
by  which  all  the  great  actions  of  the  world  are  pro- 
duced. We  will  now,  in  the  next  chapter,  proceed  with 
our  history. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  485 


Chapter  II.— In  which  Ameha  visits  her  husband. 

Amelia,  after  much  anxious  thinking,  in  which  she 
sometimes  flattered  herself  that  her  husband  was  less 
guilty  than  she  had  at  first  imagined  him,  and  that  he  had 
some  good  excuse  to  make  for  himself,  (for,  indeed,  she 
was  not  so  able  as  willing  to  make  one  for  him,)  at 
length  resolved  to  set  out  for  the  bailiff's  casile  :  having 
therefore  strictly  recommended  the  care  of  her  children 
to  her  good  landlady,  she  sent  for  a  hackney-conch,  and 
ordered  the  coachman  to  drive  to  Gray's  Inn-lane. 

When  she  came  to  the  house,  and  asked  for  the  cap- 
tain, the  bailiff's  wife,  who  came  to  the  door,  guessing, 
by  the  greatness  of  her  beauty,  and  the  disorder  of  her 
dress,  that  she  was  a  young  lady  of  pleasure,  answered 
surlily,  "  Captain  1  1  do  not  know  of  any  captain  that  is 
here,  not  1 !"  For  this  good  woman  was,  as  well  as 
Dame  Purgante,  in  Prior,  a  bitter  enemy  to  all ,  es- 
pecially to  those  of  the  handsome  kind ;  for  some  such 
she  suspected  to  go  shares  with  her  in  a  certain  prop- 
erty, to  which  the  law  gave  her  the  sole  right. 

Amelia  replied,  she  was  certain  that  Captain  Booth 
was  there.  "  Well,  if  he  is  so,"  cries  the  bailiff's  wife, 
"  you  may  come  into  the  kitchen  if  you  will,  and  he 
shall  be  called  down  to  you  if  you  have  any  business 
with  him."  At  the  same  time,  she  muttered  something 
to  herself,  and  concluded,  a  httle  more  intelligibly, 
though  still  in  a  muttering  voice,  that  she  kept  no  such 
house. 

Amelia,  whose  innocence  gave  her  no  suspicion  of 
the  true  cause  of  this  good  woman's  suUenness,  was 
frightened,  and  began  to  fear  she  knew  not  what.  At 
last  she  made  a  shift  to  totter  into  the  kitchen,  when 
the  mistress  of  the  house  asked  her,  "  Well,  madam, 
who  shall  I  tell  the  captain  wants  to  speak  with 
himl" 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  madam,"  cries  Ameha ;  "  in  my 
confusion  I  really  forgot  you  did  not  know  me  ;  tell  him, 
if  you  please,  that  I  am  his  wife." 

"And  are  you  indeed  his  wife,  madam?"  cries  Mrs. 
Bailiff,  a  little  softened. 

"  Yes,   indeed,  and   upon    my  honour,"    answered 
Amelia. 
41* 


486  THE   HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  If  this  be  the  case,"  cries  the  other,  "  you  may  walk 
up  stairs  if  you  please.  Heaven  forbid  I  should  part 
man  and  wife ;  indeed,  I  think  they  can  never  be  too 
much  together.  But  1  never  will  suffer  any  bad  doings 
in  my  house,  nor  any  of  the  town  ladies  to  come  to  gen- 
tlemen here." 

Amelia  answered  that  she  liked  her  the  better;  for, 
indeed,  in  her  present  disposition,  Amelia  was  as  nmch 
exasperated  against  wicked  women  as  the  virtuous 
mistress  of  the  house,  or  any  other  virtuous  woman, 
could  be. 

The  bailiffs  wife  then  ushered  Amelia  up  stairs,  and, 
having  unlocked  the  prisoner's  doors,  cried,  "  Captain, 
here  is  your  lady,  sir,  come  to  see  you."  At  which 
words  Booth  started  up  from  his  chair  and  caught  Ame- 
lia in  his  arms,  embracing  her  for  a  considerable  time 
with  so  much  rapture,  that  the  bailiff's  wife,  who  was  an 
eyewitness  of  this  violent  fondness,  began  to  suspect 
whether  Amelia  had  really  told  her  truth.  However, 
she  had  some  little  awe  of  the  captain,  and,  for  fear  of 
being  in  the  wrong,  did  not  interfere,  but  shut  the  door 
and  turned  the  key. 

When  Booth  found  himself  alone  with  his  wife,  and 
had  vented  the  first  violence  of  his  rapture  in  kisses  and 
embraces,  he  looked  tenderly  at  her,  and  cried,  "  Is  it 
possible,  Amelia,  is  it  possible  you  can  have  this  good- 
ness, to  follow  such  a  wretch  as  me  to  such  a  place  as 
this  1  Or  do  you  come  to  upbraid  me  with  my  guilt, 
and  to  sink  me  down  to  that  perdition  I  so  justly  de- 
serve!" 

"Am  I  so  given  to  upbraiding,  theni"  says  she,  in  a 
gentle  voice ;  "  have  I  ever  given  you  occasion  to  think 
I  would  sink  you  to  perdition]" 

"  Far  be  it  from  me,  my  love,  to  think  so,"  answered 
he ;  "  and  yet  you  may  forgive  the  utmost  fears  of 
an  offending,  penitent  sinner.  1  know,  indeed,  the  ex- 
tent of  your  goodness,  and  yet  I  know  my  guilt  so 
great—" 

"Alas !  Mr.  Booth,"  said  she, "  what  guilt  is  this  which 
you  mention,  and  which  you  wrote  to  me  of  last  night? 
Sure,  by  your  mentioning  to  me  so  much,  you  intend  to 
tell  me  more,  nay,  indeed,  to  tell  me  all ;  and  not  leave 
my  mind  open  to  suspicions,  perhaps  ten  times  worse 
than  the  truth." 

"  Will  you  give  me  a  patient  hearing  ?"  said  he. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  487 

"  I  will  indeed,"  answered  she ;  "  nay,  I  am  prepared 
to  hear  the  worst  you  can  unfold  ;  nay,  perhaps  the  worst 
is  short  of  my  apprehensions." 

Booth,  then,  after  a  little  further  apology,  began,  and 
related  to  her  the  whole  that  had  passed  between  him 
and  Miss  Matthews,  from  their  first  meeting  in  the  prison 
to  their  separation  the  preceding  evening ;  all  which,  as 
the  reader  knows  it  already,  it  would  be  tedious  and  un- 
pardonable to  transcribe  from  his  mouth.  He  told  her 
likewise  all  that  he  had  done  and  suffered  to  conceal  his 
transgression  from  her  knowledge.  This,  he  assured 
her,  was  the  business  of  his  visit  last  night ;  the  conse- 
quence of  which  was,  he  declared  in  the  most  solemn 
manner,  no  other  than  an  absolute  quarrel  with  Miss 
Matthews,  of  whom  he  had  taken  a  final  leave. 

When  he  had  ended  his  narration,  Amelia,  after  a 
short  silence,  answered :  "  Indeed,  I  firmly  believe  every 
word  you  have  said ;  but  I  cannot  now  forgive  you  the 
fault  you  have  confessed,  and  my  reason  is,  because  I 
have  "forgiven  it  long  ago.  Here,  my  dear,"  said  she, 
"  is  an  instance  that  I  am  likewise  capable  of  keeping  a 
secret."  She  then  delivered  her  husband  a  letter,  which 
she  had  some  time  ago  received  from  Miss  Matthews, 
and  which  was  the  same  which  that  lady  had  mentioned, 
and  supposed,  as  Booth  had  never  heard  of  it,  that  it  had 
miscarried,  for  she  sent  it  by  the  penny-post.  In  this 
letter,  which  was  signed  by  a  feigned  name,  she  had  ac- 
quainted Amelia  with  the  infidelity  of  her  husband,  and 
had,  besides,  very  greatly  abused  him ;  taxing  him  with 
many  falsehoods,  and,  among  the  rest,  with  having  spoken 
very  shghtingly  and  disrespectfully  of  his  wife. 

Amelia  never  shined  forth  to  Booth  in  so  amiable  and 
great  a  light,  nor  did  his  own  unworthiness  ever  appear 
to  him  so  mean  and  contemptible  as  at  this  instant. 
However,  when  he  had  read  the  letter,  he  uttered  many 
violent  protestations  to  her,  that  all  which  related  to 
herself  was  absolutely  false. 

"  I  am  convinced  it  is,"  said  she  ;  "  I  would  not  have 
a  suspicion  of  the  contrary  for  the  world.  1  assure  you 
I  had,  till  last  night  revived  it  in  my  memory,  almost 
forgotten  the  letter;  for,  as  1  well  knew  from  whom  it 
came,  by  her  mentioning  obligations  which  she  had  con- 
ferred on  you,  and  which  you  had  more  than  once  spoken 
to  me  of,  I  made  large  allowances  for  the  situation  you 
was  then  in ;  and  I  was  the  more  satisfied,  as  the  letter 


488  THE    HISTORY   OF  AMELIA. 

itself,  as  well  as  many  other  circumstances,  convinced 
me  the  affair  was  at  an  end." 

Booth  now  uttered  the  most  extravagant  expressions 
of  admiration  and  fondness  that  his  heart  could  dictate, 
and  accompanied  them  with  the  warmest  embraces;  all 
which  warmth  and  tenderness  she  returned,  and  tears  of 
love  and  joy  gushed  from  both  their  eyes.  So  ravished, 
indeed,  were  their  hearts,  that  for  some  time  they  both 
forgot  the  dreadful  situation  of  their  affairs. 

This,  however,  was  but  a  short  revery.  It  soon  re- 
curred to  Amelia,  that  though  she  had  the  liberty  of 
leaving  that  house  when  she  pleased,  she  could  not  take 
her  beloved  husband  with  her.  This  thought  stung  her 
tender  bosom  to  the  quick,  and  she  could  not  so  far 
command  herself  as  to  refrain  from  many  sorrowful  ex- 
clamations against  the  hardship  of  their  destiny;  but 
when  she  saw  the  effect  they  had  upon  Booth,  she  stifled 
her  rising  grief,  forced  a  little  cheerfulness  into  her 
countenance,  and,  exerting  all  the  spirits  she  could  raise 
within  herself,  expressed  her  hopes  of  seeing  a  speedy 
end  to  their  sufferings.  She  then  asked  her  husband 
what  she  should  do  for  him,  and  to  whom  she  should 
apply  for  his  deliverance. 

"  You  know,  my  dear,"  cries  Booth,  "  that  the  doctor 
is  to  be  in  town  some  time  to-day  ;  my  hopes  of  imme- 
diate redemption  are  only  in  him  ;  and  if  that  can  be  ob- 
tained, I  make  no  doubt  but  of  the  success  of  that  affair, 
which  is  in  the  hands  of  a  gentleman  who  has  faithfully 
promised,  and  in  whose  power  I  am  so  well  assured  it  is 
to  serve  me." 

Thus  did  this  poor  man  support  hopes  by  a  depend- 
ance  on  that  ticket  which  he  had  so  dearly  purchased 
of  one,  who  pretended  to  manage  the  wheels  in  the  great 
state  lottery  of  preferment;  a  lottery,  indeed,  which 
has  this  to  recommend  it:  that  many  poor  wretches 
feed  their  imaginations  with  the  prospect  of  a  prize  du- 
ring their  whole  lives,  and  never  discover  they  have 
drawn  a  blank. 

Amelia,  who  was  of  a  pretty  sanguine  temper,  and 
was  entirely  ignorant  of  these  matters,  was  full  as  easy 
to  be  deceived  into  hopes  as  her  husband  ;  but  in  reality 
at  present  she  turned  her  eyes  to  no  distant  prospect ; 
the  desire  of  regaining  her  husband's  liberty  having  eu- 
grossed  her  whole  mind. 


THE    HISTORY   OF    AMELIA.  489 

While  they  were  discoiirsincr  on  these  matters  they 
heard  a  violent  noise  in  the  house,  and  immediately 
after  several  persons  passed  by  their  door  up  stairs  to 
the  apartment  over  their  head.  This  greatly  terrified 
the  gentle  spirit  of  Amelia,  and  she  cried,  "  Good  Hea- 
vens, my  dear !  must  I  leave  you  in  this  horrid  place  ? 
I  am  terrified  with  a  thousand  fears  concerning  you." 

Booth  endeavoured  to  comfort  her,  saying  that  he 
was  in  no  manner  of  danger,  and  that  he  doubted  not 
but  that  the  doctor  would  soon  be  with  him.  "  And 
stay,  my  dear,"  cries  he,  "now  I  recollect,  suppose  you 
should  apply  to  my  old  friend  James  ;  for,  I  believe,  you 
are  pretty  well  satisfied  that  your  apprehensions  of  him 
were  groundless.  I  have  no  reason  to  think  but  that  he 
would  be  as  ready  to  serve  me  as  formerly." 

Amelia  turned  pale  as  ashes  at  the  name  of  James; 
and,  instead  of  making  a  direct  answer  to  her  husband, 
she  laid  hold  of  him,  and  cried,  "My  dear,  I  have  one 
favour  to  beg  of  you,  and  I  insist  on  your  granting  it 
me." 

Booth  readily  swore  he  would  deny  her  nothing. 

"  It  is  only  this,  my  dear,"  said  she ;  "  that  if  that 
detested  colonel  comes,  you  will  not  see  him.  Let  the 
people  of  the  house  tell  him  you  are  not  here." 

"  He  knows  nothing  of  my  being  here,"  answered 
Booth  ;  "  but  why  should  I  refuse  to  see  him,  if  he  should 
be  kind  enough  to  come  hither  to  me  ?  Indeed,  my 
Amelia,  you  have  taken  a  dislike  to  that  man  without 
sufficient  reason." 

"  I  speak  not  upon  that  account,"  cries  Amelia ;  "  but 
I  have  had  dreams  last  night  about  you  two.  Perhaps 
you  will  laugh  at  my  foily  ;  but,  pray,  indulge  it.  Nay, 
I  insist  on  your  promise  of  not  denying  me." 

"  Dreams,  my  dear  creature  V  answered  he.  "  What 
dream  can  you  have  had  of  us  1" 

"  One  too  horrible  to  be  mentioned,"  replied  she  :  "  I 
cannot  think  of  it  without  horror  ;  and  unless  you  will 
promise  me  not  to  see  the  colonel  till  I  return,  I  posi- 
tively will  never  leave  you." 

"Indeed,  my  Amelia,"  said  Booth,  "I  never  knew 
you  unreasonable  before.  How  can  a  woman  of  your 
sense  talk  of  dreams]" 

"  Suffer  me  to  be  once  at  least  unreasonable,"  said 
Amelia,  "  as  you  are  so  good-natured  to  say  I  am  not 
X3 


490  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

often  so.  Consider  what  I  have  lately  suffered,  and  how 
weak  my  spirits  must  be  at  this  time." 

As  Booth  was  going  to  speak,  the  baihfF,  without  any 
ceremony,  entered  the  room,  and  cried,  "  No  offence,  I 
hope,  madam  ;  my  wife,  it  seems,  did  not  know  you : 
she  thought  the  captain  had  a  mind  for  a  bit  of  flesh  by- 
the-by :  but  I  have  quieted  all  matters  ;  for  I  know  you 
very  well.  I  have  seen  that  handsome  face  many  a  time 
when  I  have  been  waiting  upon  the  captain  formerly. 
No  offence,  I  hope,  madam  ;  but  if  my  wife  was  as  hand- 
some as  you  are,  I  should  not  look  for  worse  goods 
abroad." 

Booth  conceived  some  displeasure  at  this  speech ;  but 
he  did  not  think  proper  to  express  more  than  a  pish ; 
and  then  asked  the  bailiff  what  was  the  meaning  of  the 
noise  they  heard  just  now. 

"  1  know  of  no  noise,"  answered  the  bailiff:  "  some 
of  my  men  have  been  carrying  a  piece  of  bad  luggage 
upstairs;  a  poor  rascal,  that  resisted  the  law  and  jus- 
tice ;  so  I  gave  him  a  cut  or  two  with  a  hanger :  if  they 
should  prove  mortal,  he  must  thank  himself  for  it.  If  a 
man  will  not  beiiave  like  a  gentleman  to  an  ofRcer,  he 
must  take  the  consequence  ;  but  I  must  say  that  for  you, 
captain,  you  behave  yourself  like  a  gentleman,  and 
therefore  I  shall  always  use  you  as  such  ;  and  I  hope 
you  will  find  bail  soon  with  all  my  heart.  This  is  but  a 
paltry  sum  to  what  the  last  was  ;  and,  I  do  assure  you, 
there  is  nothing  else  against  you  in  the  office." 

The  latter  part  of  the  bailiffs  speech  somewhat  com- 
forted Amelia,  who  had  been  a  little  frightened  by  the 
former;  and  she  soon  after  took  leave  of  her  husband 
to  go  in  quest  of  the  doctor,  who,  as  Amelia  had  heard 
that  morning,  was  expected  in  town  that  very  day, 
which  was  somewhat  sooner  than  he  had  intended  at 
his  departure. 

Before  she  went,  however,  she  left  a  strict  charge 
with  the  bailiff,  who  ushered  her  very  civilly  down 
stairs,  that  if  one  Colonel  James  came  there  to  inquire 
for  her  husband,  he  should  deny  that  he  was  there. 

She  then  departed;  and  the  bailiff  immediately  gave 
a  very  strict  charge  to  his  wife,  his  maid,  and  his  fol- 
lowers, that  if  one  Colonel  James,  or  any  one  from  hira, 
should  ii. quire  after  the  captain,  that  they  should  let 
him  know  he  had  the   captain  above  stairs;  for  he 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  491 

doubted  not  but  that  the  colonel  was  one  of  Booth's 
creditors,  and  he  hoped  for  a  second  bail-bond  by  his 
means. 


Chapter  III.— Containing  matter  pertinent  to  the  history, 

Amelia,  in  her  way  to  the  doctor's,  determined  just 
to  stop  at  her  own  lodgings,  which  lay  a  little  out  of  the 
road,  and  to  pay  a  momentary  visit  to  her  children. 

This  was  fortunate  enough  ;  for,  had  she  called  at  the 
doctor's  house,  she  would  have  heard  nothing  of  him, 
which  would  have  caused  in  her  some  alarm  and  dis- 
appointment ;  for  the  doctor  was  set  down  at  Mrs.  At- 
kinson's, where  he  was  directed  to  Amelia's  lodgings, 
to  which  he  went  before  he  called  at  his  own  ;  and  here 
Amelia  now  found  him  playing  with  her  two  children. 

The  doctor  had  been  a  little  surprised  at  not  finding 
Amelia  at  home,  or  any  one  that  could  give  an  account 
of  her :  he  was  now  more  surprised  to  see  her  come  in 
such  a  dress,  and  at  the  disorder  which  he  very  plainly 
perceived  in  her  pale  and  melancholy  countenance.  He 
addressed  her  first,  (for,  indeed,  she  was  in  no  great 
haste  to  speak,)  and  cried,  *'  My  dear  child,  what  is  the 
matter  1  where  is  your  husband?  some  mischief,  I  am 
afraid,  has  happened  to  him  in  my  absence." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  doctor !"  answered  Amelia,  "  sure  some 
good  angel  has  sent  you  hither.  My  poor  Will  is  ar- 
rested again.  I  left  him  in  the  most  miserable  condition 
in  the  very  house  whence  your  goodness  formerly  re- 
deemed him." 

"  Arrested  !"  cries  the  doctor :  "  then  it  must  be  for 
some  very  inconsiderable  trifle." 

*'  I  wish  it  was,"  said  Amelia;  "  but  it  is  for  no  less 
than  fifty  pounds." 

"  Then,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  he  has  been  disingenuous 
with  me.  He  told  me  he  did  not  owe  ten  pounds  in  the 
world,  for  which  he  was  liable  to  be  sued." 

"I  know  not  what  to  say,"  cries  Amelia:  "indeed,  I 
am  afraid  to  tell  you  the  truth." 

"  How,  child  ?"  said  the  doctor :  "  I  hope  you  will 
never  disguise  it  to  any  one,  especially  to  me.  Any 
prevarication,  I  promise  you,  will  forfeit  my  friendship 
for  ever." 


492  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

"  I  will  tell  you  the  whole,'*  cries  Amelia,  "  and  rely 
entirely  on  your  goodness."  She  then  related  the  ga- 
ming story,  not  forgetting  to  set  in  the  fullest  light,  and 
to  lay  the  strongest  emphasis  on  his  promise  never  to 
play  again. 

The  doctor  fetched  a  deep  sigh  when  he  had  heard 
Amelia's  relation,  and  cried,  "  I  am  sorry,  child,  for  the 
share  you  are  to  partake  in  your  husband's  sufferings ; 
but  as  for  him,  I  really  think  he  deserves  no  compassion. 
You  say  he  has  promised  never  to  play  again :  but,  I 
must  tell  you,  he  has  broken  his  promise  to  me  already; 
for  I  had  heard  he  was  formerly  addicted  to  this  vice, 
and  had  given  him  sufficient  caution  against  it.  You 
will  consider,  child,  I  am  already  pretty  largely  engaged 
for  him,  every  farthhig  of  which  I  am  sensible  I  must 
pay.  You  know  I  would  go  to  the  utmost  verge  of  pru- 
dence to  serve  you ;  but  1  must  not  exceed  my  ability, 
which  is  not  very  great ;  and  I  have  several  families  on 
my  hands,  who  are  by  misfortune  alone  brought  to  want. 
1  do  assure  you  I  cannot  at  present  answer  for  such  a 
sum  as  this,  without  distressing  my  own  circumstances." 

"  Then  Heaven  have  mercy  upon  us  all !"  cries  Amelia, 
"  for  we  have  no  other  friend  on  earth.  My  husband 
is  undone ;  and  these  poor  little  wretches  must  be 
starved." 

The  doctor  cast  his  eyes  on  the  children,  and  then 
cried,  "  1  hope  not  so.  I  told  you  I  must  distress  my 
circumstances,  and  I  will  distress  them  this  once,  on 
your  account,  and  on  the  account  of  these  poor  little 
babes:  but  things  must  not  go  on  any  longer  in  this 
way ;  you  must  take  an  heroic  resolution.  1  will  hire 
a  coach  for  you  to-morrow  morning,  which  shall  carry 
you  all  down  to  my  parsonage-house :  there  you  shall 
have  my  protection  till  something  can  be  done  for  your 
husband ;  of  which,  to  be  plain  with  you,  I  at  present 
see  no  likelihood." 

Amelia  fell  upon  her  knees  in  an  ecstasy  of  thanks- 
giving to  the  doctor,  who  immediately  raised  her  up,  and 
placed  her  in  her  chair.  She  then  recollected  herself, 
and  said,  ''  Oh,  my  worthy  friend !  I  have  still  another 
matter  to  mention  to  you,  in  which  I  must  have  both 
your  advice  and  assistance.  My  soul  blushes  to  give 
you  all  this  trouble ;  but  what  other  friend  have  1 1  in- 
deed, what  other  friend  could  I  apply  to  so  properly  on 
such  an  occasion  V 


THE    HISTORY    OF  AMELIA.  493 

The  doctor,  with  a  very  kind  voice  and  countenance, 
desired  her  to  speak.  8he  then  said,  ''  Oh,  sir  !  that 
wicked  colonel,  whom  I  have  mentioned  to  you  for- 
merly, has  picked  some  quarrel  with  my  husband,  (for 
she  did  not  think  proper  to  mention  the  cause,)  and  has 
sent  him  a  challenge.  It  came  to  my  hand  last  night 
after  he  was  arrested :  I  opened  it,  and  read  it." 

"  Give  it  me,  child,"  said  the  doctor. 

She  answered  she  had  burnt  it ;  as  was  indeed  true. 
"  But  I  remember  it  was  an  appointment  to  meet  with 
sword  and  pistol  this  morning  at  Hyde  Park." 

"  Make  yourself  easy,  my  dear  child,"  cries  the  doc- 
tor :  "  I  will  take  care  to  prevent  any  mischief." 

"  But  consider,  my  dear  sir,"  said  she,  "  this  is  a  ten- 
der matter:  my  husband's  honour  is  to  be  preserved  as 
well  as  his  life." 

"  And  so  is  his  soul,  which  ought  to  be  the  dearest  of 
all  things,"  cries  the  doctor.  "Honour!  nonsense! 
Can  honour  dictate  to  him  to  disobey  the  express  com- 
mands of  his  Maker,  in  compliance  with  a  custom  es- 
tablished by  a  set  of  blockheads,  founded  on  false  princi- 
ples of  virtue,  in  direct  opposition  to  the  plain  and  posi- 
tive precepts  of  religion,  and  tending  manifestly  to  give 
a  sanction  to  ruffians,  and  to  protect  them  in  all  the 
ways  of  impudence  and  villany  ]" 

"  All  this,  I  believe,  is  very  true,"  cries  Amelia;  "  but 
yet  you  know,  doctor,  the  opinion  of  the  world." 

"  You  talk  simply,  child,"  cries  the  doctor.  "  What  is 
the  opinion  of  the  world,  opposed  to  religion  and  virtue  ? 
But  you  are  in  the  wrong :  it  is  not  the  opinion  of  the 
world ;  it  is  the  opinion  of  the  idle,  ignorant,  and  profli- 
gate :  it  is  impossible  it  should  be  the  opinion  of  one  man 
of  sense,  who  is  in  earnest  in  his  belief  of  our  religion. 
Chiefly,  indeed,  it  has  been  upheld  by  the  nonsense  of 
women  ;  who,  either  from  their  extreme  cowardice  and 
desire  of  protection,  or,  as  Mr.  Bayle  thinks,  from  their 
excessive  vanity,  have  been  always  forward  to  counte- 
nance a  set  of  hectors  and  bravoes,  and  to  despise  all 
men  of  modesty  and  sobriety ;  though  these  are  often, 
at  the  bottom,  not  only  the  better,  but  the  braver  men." 

"  You  know,  doctor,"  cries  Amelia, "  I  have  never  pre- 
sumed to  argue  with  you  :  your  opinion  is  to  me  always 
instruction,  and  your  word  a  law." 

"  Indeed,  child,"  cries  the  doctor,  "  I  know  you  are  a 
good  woman ;  and  yet  I  must  observe  to  you,  that  this 
42 


494  THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA. 

very  desire  of  feeding  the  passion  of  female  vanity  with 
the  heroism  of  her  man,  old  Homer  seems  to  make  the 
characteristic  of  a  bad  and  loose  woman.  He  intro- 
duces Helen  upbraiding  her  gallant  with  having  quitted 
the  fight,  and  left  the  victory  to  Menelaus  ;  and  seeming 
to  be  sorry  that  she  had  left  her  husband,  only  because 
he  was  the  better  duellist  of  the  two :  but  in  how  differ- 
ent a  light  does  he  represent  the  tender  and  chaste  love 
of  Andromache  to  her  worthy  Hector !  she  dissuades 
him  from  exposing  himself  to  danger,  even  in  a  just 
cause.  This  is  indeed  a  weakness;  but  it  is  an  amiable 
one,  and  becoming  the  true  feminine  character :  but  a 
woman,  who,  out  of  heroic  vanity,  (for  so  it  is),  would 
hazard,  not  only  thp  life,  but  the  soul  too  of  her  husband 
in  a  duel,  is  a  monster,  and  ought  to  be  painted  in  no 
other  character  but  that  of  a  Fury." 

"I  assure  you,  doctor,"  cries  Amelia,  "I  never  saw 
this  matter  in  the  odious  light  in  which  you  have  truly 
represented  it,  before.  I  am  ashamed  to  recollect  what 
I  have  formerly  said  on  this  subject.  And  yet,  while 
the  opinion  of  the  world  is  as  it  is,  one  would  wish  to 
comply  as  far  as  possible,  especially  as  my  husband  is 
an  officer  of  the  army.  If  it  can  be  done,  therefore,  with 
safety  to  his  honour — " 

"Again  honour]"  cries  the  doctor:  "indeed,  I  will 
not  suffer  that  noble  word  to  be  so  basely  and  barbar- 
ously prostituted.  I  have  known  some  of  these  men  of 
honour,  as  they  call  themselves,  to  be  the  most  arrant 
rascals  in  the  universe." 

"  Weil,  I  ask  your  pardon,"  said  she :  "  reputation, 
then,  if  you  please,  or  any  other  word  you  like  better : 
you  know  my  meaning  very  well." 

"  I  do  know  your  meaning,"  cries  the  doctor ;  "  and 
Virgil  knew  it  a  great  while  ago.  The  next  time  you 
see  your  friend  Mrs.  Atkinson,  ask  her  what  it  was 
made  Dido  fall  in  love  with  JEneas." 

"  Nay,  dear  sir,"  said  Amelia,  "  do  not  rally  me  so  un- 
mercifully :  think  where  my  poor  husband  is  now." 

"  He  is,"  answered  the  doctor,  "  where  I  will  present- 
ly be  with  him.  In  the  mean  time,  do  you  pack  up 
everything  in  order  for  your  journey  to-morrow ;  for  if 
you  are  wise,  you  will  not  trust  your  husband  a  day 
longer  in  this  town  ;  therefore  to  packing." 

Amelia  promised  she  would,  though,  indeed,  she 
wanted  not  any  warning  for  her  journey  on  this  occa- 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  495 

sion;  for,  when  she  had  packed  up  herself  in  the  coach, 
she  packed  up  her  all.  However,  she  did  not  think  prop- 
er to  mention  this  to  the  doctor;  for,  as  he  was  now  in 
pretty  good  humour,  she  did  not  care  to  venture  again 
discomposing  his  temper. 

The  doctor  then  set  out  for  Gray's  Inn-lane ;  and,  as 
soon  as  he  was  gone,  Amelia  began  to  consider  of  her 
incapacity  to  take  a  journey  in  her  present  situation, 
without  even  a  clean  shift.  At  last,  she  resolved,  as  she 
was  possessed  of  seven  guineas  and  a  half,  to  go  to  her 
friend,  and  redeem  some  of  her  own  and  her  husband's 
linen  out  of  captivity ;  indeed,  just  so  much  as  would 
render  it  barely  possible  for  them  to  go  out  of  town  with 
any  kind  of  decency  :  and  this  resolution  she  immedi- 
ately executed. 

As  soon  as  she  had  finished  her  business  with  the 
pawnbroker,  (if  a  man  who  lends  under  thirty  per  cent, 
deserves  that  name,)  he  said  to  her,  '*  Pray,  madam,  did 
you  know  that  man  who  was  here  yesterday  when  you 
brought  the  pictured"  Amelia  answered  in  the  nega- 
tive. "Indeed,  madam,"  said  the  broker,  "he  knows 
you,  though  he  did  not  recollect  you  while  you  was 
here,  as  your  hood  was  drawn  over  your  face ;  but  the 
moment  you  was  gone  he  begged  to  look  at  the  picture, 
which  I,  thinking  no  harm,  permitted.  He  had  scarce 
looked  upon  it,  when  he  cried  out,  '  By  heaven  and 
earth,  it  is  her  picture !'  He  then  asked  me  if  I  knew 
you  ;  '  Indeed,'  says  I,  '  I  never  saw  the  lady  before.' " 

In  this  last  particular,  however,  the  pawnbroker  a  lit- 
tle savoured  of  his  profession,  and  made  a  small  devia- 
tion from  the  truth;  for,  when  the  man  had  asked  him 
if  he  knew  the  lady,  he  answered,  she  was  some  poor 
undone  woman,  who  had  pawned  all  her  clothes  to  him 
the  day  before  ;  "  and  I  suppose,"  says  he,  "  this  pic- 
ture is  the  last  of  her  goods  and  chattels."  This  hint 
we  thought  proper  to  give  the  reader,  as  it  may  chance 
to  be  material. 

Ameha  answered  coldly,  that  she  had  taken  so  very 
little  notice  of  the  man,  that  she  scarce  remembered  he 
was  there. 

"  I  assure  you,  madam,"  says  the  pawnbroker,  "  he 
has  taken  very  great  notice  of  you ;  for  the  man  changed 
countenance  upon  what  I  said,  and  presently  after 
begged  me  to  give  him  a  dram.  Oho!  thinks  I  to 
myself,  are  you  thereabout  ]    I  would  not  be  so  much 


496  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

in  love  with  some  folks  as  some  people  are,  for  more 
interest  than  I  shall  ever  make  on  a  thousand  pounds." 

Amelia  blushed,  and  said,  with  some  peevishness,  that 
she  knew  nothing'  of  the  man;  but  supposed  he  was 
some  impertinent  fellow  or  other. 

"Nay,  madam,"  answered  the  pawnbroker,  "I  assure 
you  he  is  not  worthy  your  regard :  he  is  a  poor  wretch, 
and  I  believe  I  am  possessed  of  most  of  his  moveables. 
However,  I  hope  you  are  not  offended  ;  for,  indeed,  he 
said  no  harm  ;  but  he  was  very  strangely  disordered,  that 
is  the  truth  of  it." 

Amelia  was  very  desirous  of  putting  an  end  to  this 
conversation,  and  altogether  as  eager  to  return  to  her 
children  :  she  therefore  bundled  up  her  things  as  fast  as 
she  could,  and  calling  for  a  hackney-coach,  directed  the 
coachman  to  her  lodgings,  and  bid  him  drive  her  home 
with  all  the  haste  he  could. 


Chapter  IV. — In  which  Dr.  Harrison  visits  Colonel  James. 

The  doctor,  when  he  left  Amelia,  intended  to  go  di- 
rectly to  Booth  ;  but  he  presently  changed  his  mjnd,  and 
determined  first  to  call  on  the  colonel;  as  he  thought  it 
was  proper  to  put  an  end  to  that  matter  before  he  gave 
Booth  his  liberty. 

The  doctor  found  the  two  colonels,  James  and  Bath, 
together.  They  both  received  him  very  civilly :  for 
James  was  a  very  well  bred  man ;  and  Bath  always 
showed  a  particular  respect  to  the  clergy,  he  being,  in- 
deed, a  perfect  good  Christian,  except  in  the  articles  of 
fighting  and  swearing. 

Our  divine  sat  some  time  without  mentioning  the  sub- 
ject of  his  errand,  in  hopes  that  Bath  would  go  away  ; 
but  when  he  found  no  likelihood  of  that,  (for  indeed  Bath 
was,  of  the  two,  much  the  most  pleased  with  his  com- 
pany,) he  told  James  that  he  had  something  to  say  to 
him  relating  to  Mr.  Booth,  which  he  believed  he  might 
speak  before  his  brother. 

"  Undoubtedly,  sir,"  said  James  ;  "  for  there  can 
be  no  secrets  between  us  which  my  brother  may  not 
hear." 

"  I  come  then  to  you,  sir,"  said  the  doctor,  "  from  the 
most  unhappy  woman  in  the  world,  to  whose  afflictions 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  497 

you  have  greatly  and  very  cruelly  added,  by  sendin"^  a 
challenge  to  her  husband,  which  has  very  luckily  fallen 
into  her  hands ;  for  had  the  man  for  whom  you  de- 
signed it  received  it,  I  am  afraid  you  would  not  have 
seen  me  upon  this  occasion." 

*'  If  I  wrote  such  a  letter  to  Mr.  Booth,  sir,"  said 
James,  "  you  may  be  assured  I  did  not  expect  this  visit 
in  answer  to  it." 

"  I  do  not  think  you  did,"  cries  the  doctor;  *'  but  you 
have  great  reason  to  thank  Heaven  for  ordering  this 
matter  contrary  to  your  expectations.  I  know  not  what 
trifle  may  have  drawn  this  challenge  from  you  ;  but  after 
what  I  have  some  reason  to  know  of  you,  sir,  I  must 
plainly  tell  you,  that  if  you  had  added  to  your  guilt 
already  committed  against  this  man  that  of  having  his 
blood  upon  your  hands,  your  soul  would  have  become  as 
black  as  hell  itself." 

"  Give  me  leave  to  say,"  cries  the  colonel,  "  this  is  a 
language  which  I  am  not  used  to  hear;  and  if  your  cloth 
was  not  your  protection,  you  should  not  give  it  me  with 
impunity.  After  what  you  know  of  me,  sir  1  What  do 
you  presume  to  know  of  me  to  my  disadvantage  ]" 
•  "  You  say  my  cloth  is  my  protection,  colonel,"  an- 
swered the  doctor  ;  "  therefore,  pray  lay  aside  your  an- 
ger :  I  do  not  come  with  any  design  of  affronting  or  of- 
fending you." 

"  Very  well,"  cries  Bath  ;  "  that  declaration  is  suffi- 
cient from  a  clergyman,  let  him  say  what  he  pleases." 

^'  Indeed,  sir,"  says  the  doctor,  very  mildly,  "  I  con- 
sult equally  the  good  of  you  both,  and,  in  a  spiritual 
sense,  more  especially  yours  ;  for  you  know  you  have 
injured  this  poor  man." 

"  So  far  on  the  contrary,"  cries  James,  "  that  I  have 
been  his  greatest  benefactor.  I  scorn  to  upbraid  him; 
but  you  force  me  to  it :  nor  have  I  ever  done  him  the 
least  injury." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  said  the  doctor  ;  "  I  will  alter  what  I 
have  said.  But  for  this  I  apply  to  your  honour.  Have 
you  not  intended  him  an  injury,  the  very  intention  of 
which  cancels  every  obligation?" 

"How,  sir?"  answered  the  colonel:  "What  do  you 
mean?" 

"  My  meaning,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  is  almost  too 
tender  to  mention.     Come,  colonel,  examine  your  own 
lieart ;  and  then  answer  me,  on  your  honour,  if  you  have 
43* 


498  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

not  intended  to  do  him  the  highest  wrong  which  one 
man  can  do  another." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean  by  the  question,"  an- 
swered the  colonel. 

"  D — n  me,  the  question  is  very  transparent,"  cries 
Bath :  "  from  any  other  man  it  would  be  an  affront  with 
the  strongest  emphasis ;  but  from  one  of  the  doctor's 
cloth,  it  demands  a  categorical  answer." 

"  I  am  not  a  papist,  sir,"  answered  Colonel  James, 
"  nor  am  I  obliged  to  confess  to  my  priest.  But  if  you 
have  anything  to  say,  speak  openly,  for  1  do  not  under- 
stand your  meaning." 

"  I  have  explained  my  meaning  to  you  already,"  said 
the  doctor,  "  in  a  letter  I  wrote  to  you  on  the  subject ; 
a  subject  which  1  am  sorry  I  should  have  any  occasion 
to  write  upon  to  a  Christian." 

"  I  do  remember,  now,"  cries  the  colonel,  "that  I  re- 
ceived a  very  impertinent  letter,  something  like  a  ser- 
mon, against  adultery;  but  I  did  not  expect  to  hear  the 
author  own  it  to  my  face." 

"  That  brave  man  then,  sir,"  answered  the  doctor, 
"  stands  before  you,  who  dares  own  he  wrote  that  let- 
ter, and  dares  affirm,  too,  that  it  was  written  on  a  just 
and  strong  foundation.  But  if  the  hardness  of  your 
heart  could  prevail  on  you  to  treat  my  good  intention 
with  contempt  and  scorn,  what,  pray,  could  induce  you 
to  show  it,  nay,  to  give  it  Mr.  Booth  1  What  motive 
could  you  have  for  that,  unless  you  meant  to  insult  him, 
and  to  p.rovoke  your  rival  to  give  you  that  opportunity 
of  putting  him  out  of  the  world,  which  you  have  since 
wickedly  sought  by  your  challenge  !" 

"I  give  him  the  letter?"  said  the  colonel. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  doctor  :  "  he  showed  me  the 
letter,  and  affirmed  that  you  gave  it  him  at  the  masquer- 
ade." 

"  He  is  a  lying  rascal  then,"  said  the  colonel,  very 
passionately:  "  I  scarce  took  the  trouble  of  reading  the 
letter,  and  lost  it  out  of  my  pocket." 

Here  Bath  interfered,  and  explained  this  affair  in  the 
manner  in  u'hich  it  happened,  and  with  which  the  reader 
is  already  acquainted.  He  concluded  by  great  eulogi- 
ums  on  the  performance,  and  declared  it  was  one  of  the 
most  enthusiastic  (meaning  perhaps  ecclesiastic)  letters 
that  ever  was  written.     "  And  d — n  me,"  says  he,  "  if  I 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  499 

do  not  respect  the  author  with  the  utmost  emphasis  of 
thinking." 

The  doctor  now  recollected  what  had  passed  with 
Booth,  and  perceived  that  he  had  made  a  mistake  of  one 
colonel  for  another.  This  he  presently  acknowledged 
to  Colonel  James,  and  said  that  the  mistake  had  been 
his,  and  not  Booth's. 

Bath  now  collected  all  his  gravity  and  dignity,  as  he 
called  it,  into  his  countenance ;  and,  addressing  himself 
to  James,  said,  "  And  was  that  letter  written  to  you, 
brother  1  I  hope  you  never  deserved  any  suspicion  of 
this  kind." 

"Brother,"  cries  James,  "  I  am  accountable  to  myself 
for  my  actions,  and  shall  not  render  an  account  either  to 
you  or  to  that  gentleman." 

"As  to  me,  brother,"  answered  Bath,  "you  say  right; 
but  1  think  this  gentleman  may  call  you  to  an  account ; 
nay,  I  think  it  is  his  duty  so  to  do.  And  let  me  tell  you, 
brother,  there  is  one  much  greater  than  he  to  whom 
you  must  give  an  account.  Mrs.  Booth  is  really  a  fine 
woman,  a  lady  of  most  imperious  and  majestic  presence. 
I  have  heard  you  often  say  that  you  liked  her;  and 
if  you  have  quarrelled  with  her  husband  upon  this  ac- 
count, by  all  the  dignity  of  man,  I  think  you  ought  to 
ask  his  pardon." 

"  Indeed,  brother,"  cries  James,  "  I  can  bear  this  no 
longer  :  you  will  make  me  angry  presently." 

"  Angry,  brother  James !"  cries  Bath,  "  angry  !  I 
love  you,  brother,  and  have  obligations  to  you.  I  will 
say  no  more  ;  but  I  hope  you  know  I  do  not  fear  making 
any  man  angry." 

James  answered,  he  knew  it  well ;  and  then  the  doc- 
tor, apprehending  that  while  he  was  stopping  up  one 
breach  he  should  make  another,  presently  interfered, 
and  turned  the  discourse  back  to  Booth.  "  You  tell  me, 
sir,"  said  he  to  James,  "  that  my  gown  is  my  protection ; 
let  it  then,  at  least,  protect  me  where  I  have  had  no  design 
in  offending;  where  I  have  consulted  your  highest  wel- 
fare, as  in  truth  I  did  in  writing  this  letter:  and,  if  you 
did  not  in  the  least  deserve  any  such  suspicion,  still  you 
have  no  cause  for  resentment.  Caution  against  sin, 
even  to  the  innocent,  can  never  be  unwholesome.  But 
this  I  assure  you :  whatever  anger  you  have  to  me,  you 
can  have  none  to  poor  Booth,  who  was  entirely  ignorant 
of  my  writing  to  you,  and  who,  I  am  certain,  never  en- 


600  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

tertained  the  least  suspicion  of  you  ;  on  the  contrary, 
reveres  you  with  the  highest  esteem,  and  love,  and 
gratitude.  Let  me,  therefore,  reconcile  all  matters  be- 
tween you,  and  bring  you  together  before  he  has  even 
heard  of  this  challenge." 

"  Brother,"  cries  Bath,  "  I  hope  I  shall  not  make  you 
angry :  I  lie  when  1  say  so ;  for  I  am  indifferent  to  any 
man's  anger.  Let  me  be  an  accessary  to  what  the  doc- 
tor has  said.  I  think  I  may  be  trusted  with  matters  of 
this  nature  ;  and  it  is  a  little  unkind,  that,  if  you  intended 
to  send  a  challenge,  you  did  not  make  me  the  bearer ; 
but,  indeed,  as  to  what  appears  to  me,  this  matter  may 
be  very  well  made  up ;  and  as  Mr.  Booth  does  not  know 
of  the  challenge,  I  don^t  see  why  he  ever  should,  any 
more  than  your  giving  him  the  lie  just  now  ;  but  that  he 
shall  never  have  from  me,  nor,  I  believe,  from  this  gen- 
tleman ;  for,  indeed,  if  he  should,  it  would  be  incumbent 
upon  him  to  cut  your  throat." 

"  Lookee,  doctor,"  said  James,  "  I  do  not  deserve  the 
unkind  suspicion  you  just  now  threw  out  against  me.  I 
never  thirsted  after  any  man's  blood ;  and  as  for  what 
has  passed,  since  this  discovery  has  happened,  I  may, 
perhaps,  not  think  it  worth  my  while  to  trouble  myself 
any  more  about  it." 

The  doctor  was  not  contented  with  this  perhaps  ;  he 
insisted  on  a  firm  promise,  to  be  bound  with  the  colonel's 
honour  :  this,  at  length,  he  obtained,  and  then  departed 
well  satisfied. 

In  fact,  the  colonel  was  ashamed  to  avow  the  real 
cause  of  the  quarrel  to  this  good  man,  or,  indeed,  to  his 
brother  Bath,  who  would  not  only  have  condemned  him 
equally  with  the  doctor,  but  would  possibly  have  quar- 
relled with  him  on  his  sister's  account,  whom,  as  the 
reader  must  have  observed,  he  loved  above  all  things  ; 
and,  in  plain  truth,  though  the  colonel  was  a  brave  man, 
and  dared  to  fight,  yet  he  was  altogether  as  willing  to  let 
it  alone  ;  and  this  made  him  now  and  then  give  a  little 
way  to  the  wrongheadedness  of  Colonel  Bath,  who,  with 
all  the  other  principles  of  honour  and  humanity,  made 
no  more  of  cutting  the  throat  of  a  man,  upon  any  of  his 
punctilios,  than  a  butcher  does  of  killing  sheep. 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  501 


Chapter  V.— What  passed  at  the  bailiff's  house. 

The  doctor  now  set  forward  to  his  friend  Booth ;  and 
as  he  passed  by  the  door  of  his  attorney  in  the  way,  he 
called  upon  him,  and  took  him  with  him. 

The  meeting:  between  him  and  Booth  need  not  be  ex- 
patiated on.  The  doctor  was  really  angry  ;  and  though 
he  deferred  his  lecture  to  a  more  proper  opportunity, 
yet,  as  he  was  no  dissembler,  (indeed,  he  was  incapable 
of  any  disguise,)  he  could  not  put  on  a  show  of  that 
heartiness  with  which  he  had  formerly  used  to  receive 
his  friend. 

Booth,  at  last,  began  himself  in  the  following  manner : 
"  Doctor,  I  am  really  ashamed  to  see  you  ;  and  if  you 
knew  the  confusion  of  my  soul  on  this  occasion,  I  am 
sure  you  would  pity  rather  than  upbraid  me  :  and  yet 
I  can  say,  with  great  sincerity,  1  rejoice  in  this  last 
instance  of  my  shame,  since  I  am  like  to  reap  the 
most  solid  advantage  from  it."  The  doctor  stared  at 
this,  and  Booth  thus  proceeded :  "  Since  I  have  been 
in  this  wretched  place,  I  have  employed  my  time 
almost  entirely  in  reading  over  a  series  of  sermons 
which  are  contained  in  that  book,  (meaning  Dr.  Barrow's 
works,  which  then  lay  on  the  table  before  him),  in 
proof  of  the  Christian  religion;  and  so  good  an  effect 
have  they  had  upon  me,  that  I  shall,  I  believe,  be  the 
better  man  for  them  as  long  as  1  live.  I  have  not  a 
doubt  (for  I  own  I  have  had  such)  which  remains  now 
imsatisfied.  If  ever  an  angel  might  be  thought  to  euide 
the  pen  of  a  writer,  surely  the  pen  of  that  great  and 
good  man  had  such  an  assistant."  The  doctor  readily 
concurred  in  the  praises  of  Dr.  Barrow ;  and  added, 
"  You  say  you  have  had  your  doubts,  young  gentleman  ; 
indeed,  I  did  not  know  that :  and,  pray,  what  were  your 
doubts'?"  "Whatever  they  were,  sir,"  said  Booth, 
"  they  are  now  satisfied,  as  I  believe  those  of  every  im- 
partial and  sensible  reader  will  be,  if  he  will,  with  due 
attention,  read  over  these  excellent  sermons."  "  Very 
well,"  answered  the  doctor  ;  "  though  I  have  conversed, 
I  find,  with  a  false  brother  hitherto,  I  am  glad  you  are 
reconciled  to  truth  at  last;  and  I  hope  your  future  faith 
will  have  some  influence  on  your  future  life."  "  I  need 
not  tell  you,  sir,"  replied  Booth,  "  that  will  always  be 


502  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

the  case,  where  faith  is  sincere,  as  I  assure  you  mine 
is.  Indeed,  1  never  was  a  rash  disbeliever ;  my  chief 
doubt  was  founded  on  this;  that  as  men  appeared  to  me 
to  act  entirely  from  their  passions,  their  actions  could 
have  neither  merit  nor  demerit."  "  A  very  worthy  con- 
clusion, truly,"  cries  the  doctor  :  "  but  if  men  act,  as  I 
believe  they  do,  from  their  passions,  it  would  be  fair  to 
conclude  that  religion  to  be  true,  which  applies  immedi- 
ately to  the  strongest  of  these  passions,  hope  and  fear ; 
choosing  rather  to  rely  on  its  rewards  and  punishments, 
than  on  that  native  beauty  of  virtue,  which  some  of  the 
ancient  philosophers  thought  proper  to  recommend  to 
their  disciples.  But  we  will  defer  this  discourse  till  an- 
other opportunity  :  at  present,  as  the  devil  has  thought 
proper  to  set  you  free,  I  will  try  if  I  can  prevail  on  the 
bailiff  to  do  the  same." 

The  doctor  had  not  really  so  much  money  in  town  as 
Booth's  debt  amounted  to ;  and  therefore,  though  he 
would  otherwise  very  willingly  have  paid  it,  he  was 
forced  to  give  bail  for  the  action :  for  which  purpose,  as 
the  bailiff  was  a  man  of  great  form,  he  was  obliged  to  get 
another  person  to  be  bound  with  him.  This  person, 
however,  the  attorney  undertook  to  procure,  and  imme- 
diately set  out  in  quest  of  him. 

During  his  absence  the  bailiff  came  into  the  room,  and, 
addressing  himself  to  the  doctor,  said,  *'  I  think,  sir,  your 
name  is  Doctor  Harrison."  The  doctor  immediately  ac- 
knowledged his  name:  indeed,  the  bailiff  had  seen  it  to 
a  bail-bond  before.  "  Why  then,  sir,"  said  the  bailiff, 
"  there  is  a  man  above,  in  a  dying  condition,  that  desires 
the  favour  of  speaking  to  you :  1  believe  he  wants  you  to 
pray  by  him." 

The  bailiff  himself  was  not  more  ready  to  execute  his 
office  on  all  occasions  for  his  fee,  than  the  doctor  was 
to  execute  his  for  nothing  :  without  making  any  further 
inquiry,  therefore,  into  the  condition  of  the  man,  he  im- 
mediately went  up  stairs. 

As  soon  as  the  bailiff  returned  down  stairs,  which  was 
immediately  after  he  had  lodged  the  doctor  in  the  room, 
Booth  had  the  curiosity  to  ask  him  who  this  man  was. 
*'  Why,  I  don't  know  much  of  him,"  said  the  bailiff:  "  I 
had  him  once  in  custody  before  now  ;  I  remember  it  was 
when  your  honour  was  here  last ;  and  now,  I  remember 
too,  he  said  that  he  knew  your  honour  very  well.  Indeed, 
I  had  some  opinion  of  him  at  that  time;  for  he  spent  his 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  503 

money  very  much  like  a  gentleman :  but  I  have  dis- 
covered since  that  he  is  a  poor  fellow,  and  worth  noth- 
ing. He  is  a  mere  shy  cock  ;  I  have  had  the  stuff  about 
me  this  week,  and  could  never  get  at  him  till  this  morn- 
ing; nay,  I  don't  believe  we  should  ever  have  found  out 
his  lodgings,  had  it  not  been  for  the  attorney  that  was 
here  just  now,  who  gave  us  information  ;  and  so  we  took 
him  this  morning  by  a  comical  way  enough  ;  for  we 
dressed  up  one  of  my  men  in  women's  clothes,  who  told 
the  people  of  the  house  that  he  was  hjs  sister,  just  come 
to  town ;  for  we  vvere  told  by  the  attorney  he  had  such 
a  sister  ;  upon  which  he  was  let  up  stairs ;  and  so  kept 
the  door  ajar  till  I  and  another  rushed  in.  Let  me  tell 
you,  captain,  there  are  as  good  stratagems  made  use  of 
in  our  business  as  any  in  the  army." 

"  But,  pray,  sir,"  said  Booth,  "  did  not  you  tell  me  this 
morning  that  the  poor  fellow  was  desperately  wounded? 
nay,  I  think  you  told  the  doctor  that  he  was  a  dying 
man." 

"  I  had  like  to  have  forgotten  that,"  cries  the  bailiflf. 
"  Nothing  would  serve  the  gentleman  but  that  he  must 
make  resistance,  and  he  gave  my  man  a  blow  with  a 
stick ;  but  I  soon  quieted  him  by  giving  him  a  wipe  or 
two  with  a  hanger;  not  that  I  believe  I  have  done  his 
business,  neither  ;  but  the  fellow  is  fainthearted ;  and  the 
surgeon,  I  fancy,  frightens  him  more  than  he  need.  But, 
however,  let  the  worst  come  to  the  worst,  the  law  is  all 
on  my  side,  and  it  is  only  sefendendo.  The  attorney  that 
was  here  just  now  told  me  so,  and  bid  me  fear  nothing; 
for  that  he  would  stand  my  friend,  and  undertake  the 
cause ;  and  he  is  a  devilish  good  one  at  a  defence  at 
the  Old  Bailey,  I  promise  you.  I  have  known  him  bring 
off  several,  that  everybody  thought  would  have  been 
hanged." 

*'  But  suppose  you  should  be  acquitted,"  said  Booth ; 
*'  would  not  the  blood  of  this  poor  wretch  lie  a  little 
heavy  at  your  heart  ?" 

*'  Why  should  it,  captain  V  said  the  bailiff:  *'  is  it  not 
all  done  in  a  lawful  way  1  Why  will  people  resist  the 
law,  when  they  know  the  consequence  !  To  be  sure, 
if  a  man  was  to  kill  another,  in  an  unlawful  manner  as  it 
were,  and  what  the  law  calls  murder,  that  is  quite  and 
clear  another  thing.  I  should  not  care  to  be  convicted 
of  murder,  any  more  than  another  man.  Why  now, 
captain,  you  have  been  abroad  in  the  wars,  they  tell  me, 


504  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

and,  to  be  sure,  must  have  killed  men  in  your  time.     Pray, 
was  you  ever  afraid  afterward  of  seeing  their  ghosts  ?" 
"  Tliat  is  a  different  affair,"  cries  Booth  ;  "  but  I  would 
not  kill  a  man  in  cold  blood  for  all  the  world." 

"  There  is  no  difference  at  all,  as  I  can  see,"  cries  the 
bailiff;  "one  is  as  much  in  the  w^ay  of  business  as  the 
other.  When  gentlemen  behave  themselves  Uke  unto 
gentlemen,  I  knoAV  how  to  treat  them  as  such,  as  well 
as  any  officer  the  king  has  :  and  when  they  do  not,  why, 
they  must  take  what  follows,  and  the  law  does  not  call 
it  murder." 

Booth  very  plainly  saw  that  the  baihff  had  squared  his 
conscience  exactly  according  to  law,  and  that  he  could 
not  easily  subvert  his  way  of  thinking.  He  therefore 
gave  up  the  cause,  and  desired  the  bailiff  to  expedite  the 
bonds,  which  he  promised  to  do,  saying,  he  hoped  he  had 
used  him  with  proper  civility  this  time,  if  he  had  not  the 
last ;  and  that  he  should  be  remembered  for  it. 

But  before  we  close  this  chapter,  we  shall  endeavour 
to  satisfy  an  inquiry  which  may  arise  in  our  most  fa- 
vourite readers,  (for  so  are  the  most  curious,)  how  it  came 
to  pass  that  such  a  person  as  Doctor  Harrison  should 
employ  such  a  fellow  as  this  Murphy. 

The  case  then  was  thus.  This  Murphy  had  been  clerk 
to  an  attorney,  in  the  very  same  town  in  which  the  doc- 
tor lived :  and  when  he  was  out  of  his  time,  had  set  up 
with  a  character  fair  enough,  and  had  married  a  maid- 
servant of  Mrs.  Harris,  by  which  means  he  had  all  the 
business  to  which  the  lady  and  her  friends,  in  which 
number  was  the  doctor,  could  recommend  him. 

Murphy  went  on  with  his  business,  and  thrived  very 
well,  till  he  happened  to  make  an  unfortunate  slip,  in 
w^hich  he  was  detected  by  a  brother  of  the  same  calling: 
but  though  we  call  this  by  the  gentle  name  of  a  slip,  in 
respect  to  its  being  so  extremely  common,  it  was  a 
matter  in  w^hich  the  law,  if  it  had  ever  come  to  its  ears, 
would  have  passed  a  very  severe  censure;  being,  indeed, 
no  less  than  perjury,  and'subornation  of  perjury. 

This  brother  attorney,  being  a  very  good-natured  man, 
and  unwilling  to  bespatter  his  own  profession,  and  con- 
sidering, perhaps,  that  the  consequence  did  in  nowise 
affect  the  public,  who  had  no  manner  of  interest  in  the 
alternative,  whether  A,  in  whom  the  right  was,  or  B,  to 
whom  Mr.  Murphy,  by  the  means  aforesaid,  had  trans- 
ferred it,  succeeded  in  an  action,    (we  mention  this 


THE    HISTORY   OP   AMELIA  505 

particular,  because,  as  this  brother  attorney  was  a  very 
violent  party  man,  and  a  professed  stickler  for  the  pub- 
lic, to  suffer  any  injury  to  have  been  done  to  that  would 
have  been  highly  inconsistent  with  his  principles,)  this 
gentleman,  therefore,  came  to  Mr.  Murphy;  and  after 
showing  him  that  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  convict  him 
of  the  aforesaid  crime,  very  generously  told  him  that  he 
had  not  the  least  delight  in  bringing  any  man  to  destruction, 
nor  the  least  animosity  against  him  :  all  that  he  insisted 
upon  was,  that  he  would  not  live  in  the  same  town  or 
country  with  one  who  had  been  guilty  of  such  an  action. 
He  then  told  Mr.  Murphy  that  he  would  keep  the  secret 
on  two  conditions :  the  one  was,  that  he  immediately 
quitted  that  country;  the  other  was,  that  he  should  con- 
vince him  he  deserved  this  kindness  by  his  gratitude  ; 
and  that  Murphy  should  transfer  to  the  other  all  the 
business  which  he  then  had  in  those  parts,  and  to  which 
he  could  possibly  recommend  him. 

It  is  the  observation  of  a  very  wise  man,  that  it  is  a 
very  common  exercise  of  wisdom  in  this  world,  of  two 
evils  to  choose  the  least.  The  reader,  therefore,  cannot 
doubt  but  Mr.  Murphy  complied  with  the  alternative 
proposed  by  his  kind  brother,  and  accepted  the  terms 
on  which  secrecy  was  to  be  obtained. 

This  happened  while  the  doctor  was  abroad;  and 
with  all  this,  except  the  departure  of  Murphy,  not  only 
the  doctor,  but  the  whole  town,  save  his  aforesaid 
brother  alone,  were  to  this  day  unacquainted. 

The  doctor,  at  his  return,  hearing  that  Mr.  Murphy 
was  gone,  applied  to  the  other  attorney  in  his  affairs, 
who  still  employed  this  Murphy  as  his  agent  in  town, 
partly,  perhaps,  out  of  good-will  to  him,  and  partly 
from  the  recommendation  of  Mrs.  Harris;  for,  as  he 
had  married  a  servant  of  the  family,  and  a  particular 
favourite  of  hers,  there  can  be  no  wonder  that  she,  who 
was  entirely  ignorant  of  the  affair  above  related,  as  well 
as  of  his  conduct  in  town,  should  continue  her  favour 
to  him.  It  will  appear,  therefore,  I  apprehend,  no 
longer  strange,  that  the  doctor,  who  had  seen  this  man 
but  three  times  since  his  removal  to  town,  and  then 
conversed  with  him  only  on  business,  should  remain  as 
ignorant  of  his  life  and  character,  as  a  man  generally  is 
of  the  character  of  the  hackney-coachman  who  drives 
him.  Nor  does  it  reflect  more  on  the  honour  or  under- 
standing of  the  doctor,  under  these  circumstances,  to 
43  Y 


506  THE   HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

employ  Murphy,  than  it  would  if  he  had  been  driven 
about  the  town  by  a  thief  or  a  murderer. 


Chapter  VI. — What  passed  between  the  doctor  and  the  sick  man. 

We  left  the  doctor  in  the  last  chapter  with  the 
wounded  man,  to  whom  the  doctor,  in  a  very  gentle 
voice,  spoke  as  follows  : — 

**  I  am  sorry,  friend,  to  see  you  in  this  situation,  and 
am  very  ready  to  give  you  any  comfort  or  assistance 
within  my  power." 

"  I  thank  you  kindly,  doctor,"  said  the  man ;  "  indeed, 
I  should  not  have  presumed  to  have  sent  to  you,  had  I 
not  known  your  character :  for  though  I  believe  I  am 
not  at  all  known  to  you,  I  have  lived  many  years  in  that 
town  where  you  yourself  had  a  house.  My  name  is 
Robinson ;  I  used  to  write  for  the  attorneys  in  those 
parts,  and  I  have  been  employed  on  your  business  in 
my  time." 

"  I  do  not  recollect  you,  nor  your  name,"  said  the 
doctor ;  "  but  consider,  friend,  your  moments  are  pre- 
cious, and  your  business,  as  I  am  informed,  is  to  offer 
up  your  prayers  to  that  great  Being,  before  whom  you 
are  shortly  to  appear.  But,  first,  let  me  exhort  you 
earnestly  to  a  most  serious  repentance  of  all  your  sins." 

"  Oh,  doctor,"  said  the  man,  "  pray,  what  is  your 
opinion  of  a  death-bed  repentance  V 

"If  repentance  is  sincere,"  cries  the  doctor,  "I  hope, 
through  the  mercies  and  merits  of  our  most  powerful 
and  benign  Intercessor,  it  will  never  come  too  late." 

"  But  do  not  you  think,  sir,"  cries  the  man,  "  that,  in 
order  to  obtain  forgiveness  of  any  great  sin  we  have 
committed,  by  an  injury  done  to  our  neighbours,  it  is 
necessary,  as  far  as  in  us  hes,  to  make  all  the  amends 
we  can  to  the  party  injured,  and  to  undo,  if  possible, 
the  injury  we  have  done  V 

"  Most  undoubtedly,"  cries  the  doctor;  "  our  pretence 
to  repentance  would  otherwise  be  gross  hypocrisy,  and 
an  impudent  attempt  to  deceive  and  impose  upon  our 
Creator  himself." 

"  Indeed,  I  am  of  the  same  opinion,"  cries  the  peni- 
tent ;  "  and  I  think  further,  that  this  is  thrown  in  my 
way,  and  hinted  to  me  by  that  great  Being  ;^for  an  ac- 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  507 

cident  happened  to  me  yesterday,  by  wliich,  as  things 
have  fallen  out  since,  I  think  I  plainly  discern  the  hand 
of  Providence.  I  went  yesterday,  sir,  you  must  know, 
to  a  pawnbroker's  to  pawn  the  last  moveable  which, 
except  the  poor  clothes  you  see  on  my  back,  I  am  worth 
in  the  world.  While  I  was  there,  a  young  lady  came 
in  to  pawn  her  picture.  She  had  disguised  herself  so 
much,  and  pulled  her  hood  so  over  her  face,  that  I  did 
not  know  her  while  she  stayed,  which  was  scarce  three 
minutes.  As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  the  pawnbroker, 
taking  the  picture  in  his  hand,  cried  out,  '  Upon  my  word, 
this  is  the  handsomest  face  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.'  I 
desired  him  to  let  me  look  on  the  picture,  which  he 
readily  did ;  and  I  no  sooner  cast  my  eyes  upon  it,  than 
the  strong  resemblance  struck  me,  and  I  knew  it  to  be 
Mrs.  Booth." 

"  Mrs.  Booth!  what  Mrs.  Booth  1"  cries  the  doctor. 

"  Captain  Booth's  lady ;  the  captain  who  is  now  be- 
low," said  the  other. 

"  How !"  cries  the  doctor,  with  great  impetuosity. 

"  Have  patience,"  said  the  man,  "  and  you  shall  hear 
all.  I  expressed  some  surprise  to  the  pawnbroker,  and 
asked  the  lady's  name.  He  answered,  that  he  knew 
not  her  name;  but  that  she  was  some  undone  wretch, 
who  had  the  day  before  left  all  her  clothes  with  him  in 
pawn.  My  guilt  immediately  flew  in  my  face,  and  told 
me  I  had  been  accessary  to  this  lady's  undoing.  The 
sudden  shock  so  affected  me,  that,  had  it  not  been  for  a 
dram  which  the  pawnbroker  gave  me,  I  believe  I 
should  have  sunk  on  the  spot." 

"Accessary  to  her  undoing!  how  accessary?"  said 
the  doctor.    "  Pray,  tell  me,  for  I  am  impatient  to  hear." 

*'I  will  tell  you  all  as  fast  as  I  can,"  cries  the  sick 
man.  "You  know,  good  doctor,  that  Mrs.  Harris  of 
our  town  had  two  daughters,  this  Mrs.  Booth  and  an- 
other. Now,  sir,  it  seems  the  other  daughter  had, 
some  way  or  other,  disobliged  her  mother,  a  little  be- 
fore the  old  lady  died :  therefore  she  made  a  will,  and 
left  all  her  fortune,  except  one  thousand  pounds,  to 
Mrs.  Booth  ;  to  which  will  Mr.  Murphy,  myself,  and 
another,  who  is  now  dead,  were  the  witnesses.  Mrs. 
Harris  afterward  died  suddenly;  upon  which  it  was 
contrived  by  her  other  daughter  and  Mr.  INlurphy  to 
make  a  new  will,  in  which  Mrs.  Booth  had  a  legacy  of 
ten  pounds,  and  all  the  rest  was  given  to  the  other.  To 
3 


508  THE   HISTORY    OF   AMELIA. 

this  will,  Murphy,  myself,  and  the  same  third  person 
again  set  our  hands." 

"  Good  Heaven!  how  wonderful  is  thy  providence  !" 
cries  the  doctor.     "  Murphy,  say  you'?" 

*'  He  himself,  sir,"  answered  Robinson ;  "  Murphy, 
who  is  the  greatest  rogue,  I  believe,  now  in  the  world." 

"  Pray,  sir,  proceed,"  cries  the  doctor. 

"  For  this  service,  sir,"  said  Robinson,  "  myself  and 
the  third  person,  one  Carter,  received  two  hundred 
pounds  each.  What  reward  Murphy  himself  had,  I 
know  not.  Carter  died  soon  afterward ;  and  from 
that  time,  at  several  payments,  1  have  by  threats  ex- 
torted above  a  hundred  pounds  more.  And  this,  sir, 
is  the  whole  truth,  which  I  am  ready  to  testify,  if  it 
would  please  Heaven  to  prolong  my  hfe." 

"  1  hope  it  will,"  cries  the  doctor ;  "  but  something 
must  be  done  for  fear  of  accidents ;  I  will  send  to  coun- 
sel immediately  to  know  how  to  secure  your  testimony. 
"Whom  can  I  get  to  send  1  Stay,  ay,  he  will  do  ;  but  I 
know  not  where  his  house  or  his  chambers  are ;  I  will 
go  myself;  but  I  may  be  wanted  here." 

While  the  doctor  was  in  this  violent  agitation,  the 
surgeon  made  his  appearance.  The  doctor  stood  still 
in  a  meditating  posture,  while  the  surgeon  examined  his 
patient ;  after  which,  the  doctor  begged  him  to  declare 
his  opinion,  and  whether  he  thought  the  wounded  man 
in  any  immediate  danger  of  death.  "  I  do  not  know," 
answered  the  surgeon,  "  what  you  call  immediate.  He 
may  live  several  days ;  nay,  he  may  recover.  It  is  im- 
possible to  give  any  certain  opinion  in  these  cases." 
He  then  launched  forth  into  a  set  of  terms,  which  the 
doctor,  with  all  his  scholarship,  could  not  understand  : 
to  say  the  truth,  many  of  them  were  not  to  be  found  in 
any  dictionary  or  lexicon. 

One  discovery,  however,  the  doctor  made  ;  and  that 
was,  that  the  surgeon  was  a  ver}"  ignorant,  conceited 
fellow,  and  knew  nothing  of  his  profession.  He  resolved, 
therefore,  to  get  better  advice  for  the  sick,  but  this  he 
postponed  at  present;  and,  applying  himself  to  the  sur- 
geon, said  he  should  be  very  much  obliged  to  him  if  he 
knew  where  to  find  such  a  counsellor,  and  would  fetch 
him  thither.  "  I  should  not  ask  such  a  favour  of  you, 
sir,"  says  the  doctor,  "  if  it  was  not  on  business  of  the 
last  importance,  or  if  I  could  find  any  other  messenger." 

"  I  fetch,  sir  ?"  says  the  surgeon,  very  angrily :  "  do 


.  /Kf 


r-5 


f/  //  //, 


//,r,a. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  509 

you  take  me  for  a  footman  or  a  porter  ?  I  don't  know 
who  you  are ;  but  I  believe  you  are  full  as  proper  to  go 
on  such  an  errand  as  1  am  :"  for  as  the  doctor,  who  was 
just  come  off  his  journey,  was  very  roughly  dressed,  the 
surgeon  held  him  in  no  great  respect.  The  surgeon 
then  called  aloud  from  the  top  of  the  stairs,  "  Let  my 
coachman  draw  up,''  and  strutted  off  without  any  cere- 
mony, telling  his  patient  he  would  call  again  the  next  day. 

At  this  very  instant  arrived  Murphy  with  the  other 
bail ;  and,  finding  Booth  alone,  he  asked  the  bailiff  at  the 
door  what  was  become  of  the  doctor.  "  Why,  the 
doctor,"  answered  he,  "  is  above  stairs,  praying  with — " 
"How!"  cries  Murphy:  "how  came  you  not  to  carry 
him  directly  to  Newgate,  as  you  promised  me  V  "  Why, 
because  he  was  wounded,"  cries  the  bailiff:  "  I  thought 
it  was  charity  to  take  care  of  him ;  and,  besides,  why 
should  one  make  more  noise  about  the  matter  than  is 
necessary  ?"  "  And  Doctor  Harrison  with  him  ?"  said 
Murphy.  "Yes,  he  is,"  said  the  bailiff;  "  he  desired  to 
speak  with  the  doctor  very  much,  and  they  have  been 
praying  together  almost  this  hour."  "  All  is  up  and  un- 
done," cries  Murphy  :  "  let  me  come  by  ;  I  have  thought 
of  something  which  I  must  do  immediately." 

Now,  as  by  means  of  the  surgeon's  leaving  the  door 
open  the  doctor  heard  Murphy's  voice  naming  Robinson 
peevishly,  he  drew  softly  to  the  top  of  the  stairs,  where 
he  heard  the  foregoing  dialogue ;  and  as  soon  as  Murphy 
had  uttered  his  last  words,  and  was  moving  downward, 
the  doctor  immediately  sallied  from  his  post,  running  as 
fast  as  he  could,  and  crying,  "  Stop  the  villain,  stop  the 
thief !" 

The  attorney  wanted  no  better  hint  to  accelerate  his 
pace ;  and,  having  the  start  of  the  doctor,  got  down 
stairs,  and  out  into  the  street ;  but  the  doctor  was  close 
at  his  heels,  and  being  in  foot  the  nimbler  of  the  two, 
he  soon  overtook  him,  and  laid  hold  of  him,  as  he  would 
have  done  on  either  Broughton  or  Slack  in  the  same 
cause. 

This  action  in  the  street,  accompanied  with  the  fre- 
quent cry  of  "  Stop  thief"  by  the  doctor,  during  the  chase, 
presently  drew  together  a  large  mob,  who  began,  as  is 
usual,  to  enter  immediately  upon  business,  and  to  make 
strict  inquiry  into  the  matter,  in  order  to  proceed  to  do 
justice  in  their  summary  way. 

Murphy,  who  knew  well  the  temper  of  the  mob,  cried 
43* 


SlO  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

out,  "  If  you  are  a  bailiff,  show  me  your  writ.  Gentle- 
men, he  pretends  to  arrest  me  here  without  a  writ." 

Upon  this,  one  of  the  sturdiest  and  forwardest  of  the 
mob,  and  who,  by  a  superior  strength  of  body  and  of 
lungs,  presided  in  this  assembly,  declared  he  would  suf- 
fer no  such  thing.  "  D — n  me,"  says  he,  "  away  to  the 
pump  with  the  catchpole  directly  ;  show  me  your  writ, 
or  let  the  gentleman  go  :  you  shall  not  arrest  a  man  con- 
trary to  law." 

He  then  laid  his  hands  on  the  doctor,  who,  still  fast 
griping  the  attorney,  cried  out,  "  He  is  a  villain.  I  am 
no  bailiff,  but  a  clergyman;  and  this  lawyer  is  guilty  of 
forgery,  and  has  ruined  a  poor  family." 

"  How  !"  cries  the  spokesman :  "  a  lawyer?  that  alters 
the  case." 

"  Yes,  faith,"  cries  another  of  the  mob,  "  it  is  Lawyer 
Murphy.     I  know  him  very  well." 

"  And  has  he  ruined  a  poor  family  ?  like  enough,  faith, 
if  he's  a  lawyer.  Away  with  him  to  the  justice  imme- 
diately." 

The  bailiff  now  came  up,  desiring  to  know  what  was 
the  matter ;  to  whom  Doctor  Harrison  answered,  that  he 
had  arrested  that  villain  for  forgery.  "How  can  you 
arrest  him  V  cries  the  bailiff:  "  you  are  no  officer,  nor 
have  any  warrant.  Mr.  Murphy  is  a  gentleman,  and  he 
shall  be  used  as  such." 

"  Nay,  to  be  sure,"  cries  the  spokesman,  "  there  ought 
to  be  a  warrant ;  that's  the  truth  on't." 

"  There  needs  no  warrant,"  cries  the  doctor :  "  I  ac- 
cuse him  of  felony :  and  1  know  so  much  of  the  law  of 
England,  that  any  man  may  arrest  a  felon,  without  any 
warrant  whatever.  This  villain  has  undone  a  poor 
family ;  and  I  will  die  on  the  spot  before  I  part  with 
him." 

"  If  the  law  be  so,"  cries  the  orator,  "  that  is  another 
matter  ;  and,  to  be  sure,  to  ruin  a  poor  man  is  the  great- 
est of  sins  ;  and  being  a  lawyer  too  makes  it  so  much  the 
worse.  He  shall  go  before  the  justice,  d—n  me,  if  he 
sha'n't  go  before  the  justice.     1  says  the  word,  he  shall." 

"  I  say  he  is  a  gentleman,  and  shall  be  used  according 
to  law,"  cries  the  bailiff;  "  and  though  you  are  a  clergy- 
man," said  he  to  Harrison,  "  you  don't  show  yourself  as 
one  by  your  actions." 

"  That's  a  bailiff,"  cries  one  of  the  mob ;  "  one  lawyer 
will  always  stand  by  another ;  but  I  think  the  clergyman 


THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA.  611 

is  a  very  good  man,  and  acts  becoming  a  clergyman,  to 
stand  by  the  poor." 

At  which  words  the  mob  all  gave  a  great  shout,  and 
several  cried  out,  "  Bring  him  along;  away  with  him  to 
the  justice." 

And  now  a  constable  appeared,  and,  with  an  authori- 
tative voice,  declared  what  he  was,  produced  his  staff,  and 
demanded  the  peace. 

The  doctor  then  delivered  his  prisoner  over  to  the 
officer,  and  charged  him  with  felony ;  the  constable  re- 
ceived him ;  the  attorney  submitted ;  the  bailiff  was 
hushed;  and  the  waves  of  the  mob  immediately  sub- 
sided. 

The  doctor  now  balanced  with  himself  how  he  should 
proceed :  at  last,  he  determined  to  leave  Booth  a  little 
longer  in  captivity,  and  not  quit  sight  of  iMurphy  before 
he  had  lodged  him  safe  with  a  magistrate.  They  then 
all  moved  forward  to  the  justice;  the  constable  and  his 
prisoner  marching  first,  the  doctor  and  the  bailiff  follow- 
ing next,  and  about  five  thousand  mob  (for  no  less  number 
were  assembled  in  a  very  few  minutes)  following  in  the 
procession. 

They  found  the  magistrate  just  sitting  down  to  his 
dinner:  however,  when  he  was  acquainted  with  the  doc- 
tor's profession,  he  immediately  admitted  him,  and  heard 
his  business ;  which  he  no  sooner  perfectly  understood, 
with  all  its  circumstances,  than  he  resolved,  though  it 
was  then  very  late,  and  he  had  been  fatigued  all  the 
morning  with  public  business,  to  postpone  all  refresh- 
ment till  he  had  discharged  his  duty.  He  accordingly 
adjourned  the  prisoner  and  his  cause  to  the  bailiffs 
house,  whither  he  himself,  with  the  doctor,  immediately 
repaired,  and  whither  the  attorney  was  followed  by  a 
much  larger  number  of  attendants  than  he  had  been 
honoured  with  before. 


Chapter  VI. — In  ^vhich  the  history  draws  towards  a  conclusion. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  astonishment  of  Booth  at 
the  behaviour  of  the  doctor,  at  the  time  when  he  salHed 
forth  in  pursuit  of  the  attorney  ;  for  which  it  was  so  im- 
possible for  him  to  account  in  any  manner  whatever. 
He  remained  a  long  time  in  the  utmost  torture  of  mind, 


512  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

till  at  last  the  bailiff's  wife  came  to  him,  and  asked  him 
if  the  doctor  was  not  a  madman ;  and,  in  truth,  he  could 
hardly  defend  him  from  that  imputation. 

While  he  was  in  this  perplexity,  the  maid  of  the  house 
brought  him  a  message  from  Robinson,  desiring  the  fa- 
vour of  seeing  him  above  stairs.  With  this  he  immedi- 
ately complied. 

When  these  two  were  alone  together,  and  the  key 
turned  on  them,  (for  the  bailiff's  wife  was  a  most  careful 
person,  and  never  omitted  that  ceremony  in  the  absence 
of  her  husband,  having  always  at  her  tongue's  end  that 
excellent  proverb  of  Safe  bind  safe  find,)  Robinson,  look- 
ing steadfastly  upon  Booth,  said,  "  1  believe,  sir,  you 
scarce  remember  me." 

Booth  answered,  that  he  thought  he  had  seen  his  face 
somewhere  before,  but  could  not  then  recollect  when 
or  where. 

"Indeed,  sir,"  answered  the  man,  "it  was  a  place 
which  no  man  can  remember  with  pleasure.  But  do 
you  not  remember,  a  few  weeks  ago,  that  you  had  the 
misfortune  to  be  in  a  certain  prison  in  this  town,  where 
you  lost  a  trifling  sum  at  cards  to  a  fellow-prisoner  1" 

This  hint  sufficiently  awakened  Booth's  memory,  and 
he  now  recollected  the  features  of  his  old  friend  Rob- 
inson. He  answered  him,  a  little  surlily,  "  I  know  you 
now  very  well ;  but  I  did  not  imagine  you  would  ever 
have  reminded  me  of  that  transaction." 

"  Alas,  sir !"  answered  Robinson,  "  whatever  hap- 
pened then  was  very  trifling,  compared  to  the  injuries  I 
have  done  you ;  but,  if  my  Ufe  be  spared  long  enough,  I 
will  now  undo  it  all ;  and,  as  I  have  been  one  of  your 
worst  enemies,  I  will  now  be  one  of  your  best  friends." 

He  was  just  entering  upon  his  story,  when  a  noise 
was  heard  below,  which  might  be  almost  compared  to 
what  has  been  heard  in  Holland  when  the  dikes  have 
given  way,  and  the  ocean  in  an  inundation  breaks  in 
upon  the  land.  It  seemed,  indeed,  as  if  the  whole  world 
was  bursting  into  the  house  at  once. 

Booth  was  a  man  of  great  firmness  of  mind,  and  he 
had  need  of  it  all  at  this  instant.  As  for  poor  Robin- 
son, the  usual  concomitants  of  guilt  attended  him,  and 
he  began  to  tremble  in  a  violent  manner. 

The  first  person  who  ascended  the  stairs  was  the 
doctor,  who  no  sooner  saw  Booth,  than  he  ran  to  him, 
.rid  embraced  him,  crying,  "  My  child,  I  wish  you  joy 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  513 

with  all  my  heart :  your  sufferings  are  all  at  an  end ; 
and  Providence  has  done  you  the  justice  at  last,  which 
it  will,  one  day  or  other,  render  to  all  men.  You  will 
hear  all  presently ;  but  I  can  now  only  tell  you  that 
your  sister  is  discovered,  and  the  estate  is  your  own." 

Booth  was  in  such  confusion,  that  he  scarce  made 
any  answer  ;  and  now  appeared  the  justice  and  his  clerk, 
and  immediately  afterward  the  constable  with  his  pris- 
oner, the  bailiff,  and  as  many  more  as  could  possibly 
crowd  up  stairs. 

The  doctor  now  addressed  himself  to  the  sick  man, 
and  desired  him  to  repeat  the  same  information  before 
the  justice  which  he  had  made  already ;  to  which  Rob- 
inson readily  consented. 

While  the  clerk  was  taking  down  the  information,  the 
attorney  expressed  a  very  impatient  desire  to  send  in- 
stantly for  his  clerk ;  and  expressed  so  much  uneasi- 
ness at  the  confusion  in  which  he  had  left  his  papers  at 
home,  that  a  thought  suggested  itself  to  the  doctor, 
that  if  his  house  was  searched,  some  liglits  and  evi- 
dence relating  to  this  affair  would  certainly  be  found: 
he  therefore  desired  the  justice  to  grant  a  search-war- 
rant immediately  to  search  his  house. 

The  justice  answered,  that  he  had  no  such  power; 
that  if  there  was  any  suspicion  of  stolen  goods,  he 
could  grant  a  warrant  to  search  for  them. 

"  How,  sir!"  said  the  doctor:  "can  you  grant  a  war- 
rant to  search  a  man's  house  for  a  silver  tea-spoon  and 
not  in  a  case  hke  this,  where  a  man  is  robbed  of  his 
whole  estate  ?" 

"  Hold,  sir,"  says  the  sick  man ;  "  I  believe  I  can 
answer  that  point ;  for  I  can  swear  he  has  several  title- 
deeds  of  the  estate  now  in  his  possession,  which  1  am 
sure  were  stolen  from  the  right  owner." 

The  justice  still  hesitated.  He  said  title-deeds  sa- 
voured of  the  reality,  and  it  was  not  felony  to  steal 
them.  If,  indeed,  they  were  taken  away  in  a  box,  then 
it  would  be  felony  to  steal  the  box. 

"  Savour  of  the  reality  !  Savour  of  the  reality  !" 
said  the  doctor:  "I  never  heard  such  incomprehensible 
nonsense.  This  is  impudent,  as  well  as  childish  trifluig 
with  the  lives  and  properties  of  men." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Robinson, "  I  now  am  sure  I  can  do  his 
business  ;  for  I  know  he  has  a  silver  cup  in  his  posses- 
sion which  is  the  property  of  this  gentleman ;  (meaning 
V3 


514  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

Booth ;)  and  how  he  got  it  but  by  stealth,  let  him  account 
if  he  can." 

"  That  will  do,"  cries  the  justice,  with  great  pleasure : 
"  that  will  do ;  and  if  you  will  charge  him  on  oath  with 
that,  I  will  instantly  grant  my  warrant  to  search  his 
house  for  it."  "  And  I  will  go  and  see  it  executed," 
cries  the  doctor;  for  it  was  a  maxim  of  his,  that  no 
man  could  descend  below  himself  in  doing  any  act 
which  may  contribute  to  protect  an  innocent  person,  or 
to  bring  a  rogue  to  the  gallows. 

The  oath  was  instantly  taken,  the  warrant  signed,  and 
the  doctor  attended  the  constable  in  the  execution  of  it. 

The  clerk  then  proceeded  in  taking  the  information 
of  Robinson,  and  had  just  finished  it,  when  the  doctor 
returned  with  the  utmost  joy  in  his  countenance,  and 
declared  that  he  had  sufficient  evidence  of  the  fact  in 
his  possession.  He  had,  indeed,  two  or  three  letters 
from  Miss  Harris,  in  answer  to  the  attorney's  frequent 
demands  of  money,  for  secrecy,  that  fully  explained  the 
whole  villany. 

The  justice  now  asked  the  prisoner  what  he  had  to 
say  for  himself,  or  whether  he  chose  to  say  anything  in 
his  own  defence. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  attorney,  with  great  confidence,  "  I 
am  not  to  defend  myself  here ;  it  will  be  of  no  service 
to  me  ;  for  1  know  you  neither  can  nor  will  discharge 
me  :  but  I  am  extremely  innocent  of  all  this  matter,  as 
I  doubt  not  but  to  make  appear  to  the  satisfaction  of  a 
court  of  justice." 

The  legal  previous  ceremonies  were  then  gone 
through  of  binding  over  the  prosecutor,  &c.,  and  then 
the  attorney  was  committed  to  Newgate,  whither  he 
was  escorted,  amid  the  acclamations  of  the  populace. 

When  Murphy  was  departed,  and  a  little  calm  restored 
in  the  house,  the  justice  made  his  compliments  of  con- 
gratulation to  Booth,  who,  as  well  as  he  could  in  his 
present  tumult  of  joy,  returned  his  thanks  to  both  the 
magistrate  and  the  doctor.  They  were  now  all  preparing 
to  depart,  when  Mr.  Bondum  stepped  up  to  Booth,  and 
said,  "Hold,  sir,  you  have  forgotten  one  thing;  you 
have  not  given  bail  yet." 

This  occasioned  some  distress  at  this  time,  for  the  at- 
torney's friend  was  departed ;  but  when  the  justice  heard 
this,  he  immediately  offered  himself  as  the  other  bonds- 
man, and  thus  ended  the  affair. 


THE    HISTORY    OF   AMELIA.  515 

It  was  now  past  six  o'clock  and  none  of  the  gentlemen 
had  yet  dined  ;  ihey  very  readily,  therefore,  accepted 
the  magistrate's  invitation,  and  went  all  togetlier  to  his 
house. 

And  now  the  very  first  thing  that  was  done,  even 
before  they  sat  down  to  dinner,  was  to  despatch  a  mes- 
senger to  one  of  the  best  surgeons  in  town,  to  take  care 
of  Robinson,  and  another  messenger  to  Booth's  lodg- 
ings, to  prevent  Amelia's  concern  at  their  staying  so 
long. 

The  latter,  however,  was  to  little  purpose,  for  Amelia's 
patience  had  been  worn  out  before ;  and  she  had  taken 
a  hackney-coach  and  driven  to  the  bailiffs,  where  she 
arrived  a  little  after  the  departure  of  her  husband,  and 
was  thence  directed  to  the  justice's. 

Though  there  was  no  kind  of  reason  for  Amelia's 
fright  at  hearing  that  her  husband  and  Doctor  Harrison 
were  gone  before  the  justice,  and  though  she  indeed 
imagined  that  they  were  there  in  the  light  of  complain- 
ants, not  offenders,  yet  so  tender  were  her  fears  for  her 
husband,  and  so  much  had  her  gentle  spirits  been  lately 
agitated,  that  she  had  a  thousand  apprehensions  of  she 
knew  not  what.  When  she  arrived,  therefore,  at  the 
house,  she  ran  directly  into  the  room  where  all  the  com- 
pany were  at  dinner,  scarce  knowing  what  she  did  or 
whither  she  was  going. 

She  found  her  husband  in  such  a  situation,  and  dis- 
covered such  cheerfulness  in  his  countenance,  that  so 
violent  a  turn  was  given  to  her  spirits,  that  she  was  just 
able,  with  the  assistance  of  a  glass  of  water,  to  support 
herself.  She  soon,  however,  recovered  her  calmness, 
and  in  a  little  time  began  to  eat  what  might  indeed  be  al- 
most called  her  breakfast. 

The  justice  now  wished  her  joy  of  what  had  happened 
that  day;  for  which  she  kindly  thanked  him,  apprehend- 
ing he  meant  the  liberty  of  her  husband.  His  worship 
might  perhaps  have  explained  himself  more  largely,  had 
not  the  doctor  given  him  a  timely  wink ;  for  this  wise 
and  good  man  was  fearful  of  making  such  a  discovery 
all  at  once  to  Amelia,  lest  it  should  overpower  her ; 
and  luckily  the  justice's  wife  was  not  well  enough  ac- 
quainted with  the  matter  to  say  anything  more  on  it, 
than  barely  to  assure  the  lady  that  she  joined  in  her 
husband's  congratulation. 

Amelia  was  then  in  a  clean  white  gown,  which  she 


616  THE  HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

had  that  day  redeemed,  and  was,  indeed,  dressed  all 
over  with  great  neatness  and  exactness  :  with  the  glow, 
therefore,  which  arose  in  her  features  from  finding  her 
husband  released  from  his  captivity,  she  made  so  charm- 
ing a  figure,  that  she  attracted  the  eyes  of  the  magis- 
trate and  of  his  wife  ;  and  they  both  agreed,  when  they 
were  alone,  that  they  had  never  seen  so  charming  a 
creature ;  nay,  Booth  himself  afterward  told  her  that 
he  scarce  ever  remembered  her  to  look  so  extremely 
beautiful  as  she  did  that  evening. 

Whether  Amelia's  beauty,  or  the  reflection  on  the  re- 
markable act  of  justice  he  had  performed,  or  whatever 
motive  filled  the  magistrate  with  extraordinary  good- 
humour,  and  opened  his  heart  and  cellars,  I  will  not  de- 
termine ;  but  he  gave  them  so  hearty  a  welcome,  and 
they  were  all  so  pleased  with  each  other,  that  Amelia, 
for  that  one  night,  trusted  the  care  of  her  children  to  the 
woman  where  they  lodged,  nor  did  the  company  rise 
from  table  till  the  clock  struck  eleven. 

They  then  separated.  Amelia  and  Booth,  having 
been  set  down  at  their  lodgings,  retired  into  each  other's 
arms ;  nor  did  Booth  that  evening,  by  the  doctor's  ad- 
vice, mention  one  word  of  the  grand  affair  to  his  wife. 


Chapter  VIII. — This  history  draws  nearer  to  a  conclusion. 

In  the  morning  early  Amelia  received  the  following 
letter  from  Mrs.  Atkinson  : — 

"The  surgeon  of  the  regiment  to  which  the  captain,  my  husband, 
lately  belonged,  and  who  came  this  evening  to  see  the  captain,  has 
almost  frightened  me  out  of  my  wits,  by  a  strange  story  of  your  hus- 
band being  committed  to  prison  by  a  justice  of  peace,  for  forgery. 
For  Heaven's  sake,  send  me  the  truth  !  If  my  husband  can  be  of 
any  service,  weak  as  he  is,  he  will  be  carried  in  a  chair  to  serve  a 
brother  officer,  for  whom  he  has  a  regard  which  I  need  not  mention  ; 
or,  if  the  sum  of  twenty  pounds  will  be  of  any  service  to  you,  1  will 
wait  upon  you  with  it  the  moment  I  can  get  my  clothes  on,  the  morn- 
ing you  receive  this ;  for  it  is  too  late  to  send  to-night.  The  captain 
begs  his  hearty  service  and  respects ;  and  believe  me,  dear  madam, 
your  ever  affectionate  friend  and  humble  servant, 

"  F.  Atkinson." 

When  Amelia  read  this  letter  to  Booth,  they  were 
both  equally  surprised  ;  she  at  the  commitment  for  for- 
gery, and  he  at  seeing  such  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Atkinson; 


THE    HISTORY    OP    AMELIA.  517 

for  he  was  a  stranger  yet  to  the  reconciliation  that  had 
happened. 

Booth's  doubts  were  first  satisfied  by  Ameha,  from 
which  he  received  great  pleasure ;  for  he  really  had  a 
very  great  affection  and  fondness  for  Mr.  Atkinson,  who, 
indeed,  so  well  deserved  it.  "  Well,  my  dear,"  said  he 
10  Ameha,  smiling,  "shall  we  accept  this  generous 
oflfer  ?" 

"  Oh  fy !  no,  certainly,"  answered  she. 

"  Why  not  V  cries  Booth :  "  it  is  but  a  trifle ;  and  yet 
it  will  be  of  great  service  to  us." 

"But  consider,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "how  ill  these 
poor  people  can  spare  it." 

"They  can  spare  it  for  a  little  while,"  said  Booth; 
"  and  we  shall  soon  pay  it  them  again." 

"When,  my  dearV  said  Ameha.  "Do,  my  dear 
Will,  consider  our  wretched  circumstances.  I  beg  you, 
let  us  go  into  the  country  immediately,  and  live  upon 
bread  and  water,  till  Fortune  pleases  to  smile  upon  us." 

"  I  am  convinced  that  day  is  not  far  off,"  said  Booth. 
"However,  give  me  leave  to  send  an  answer  to  Mrs. 
Atkinson,  that  we  shall  be  glad  of  her  company  imme- 
diately to  breakfast." 

"  You  know  I  never  contradict  you,"  said  she  ;  "  but 
I  assure  you  it  is  contrary  to  my  inclinations  to  take 
this  money." 

"  Well,  suffer  me,"  cries  he,  "  to  act  this  once  con- 
trary to  your  inchnations."  He  then  wrote  a  short 
note  to  Mrs. Atkinson,  and  despatched  it  away  immedi- 
ately;  which,  when  he  had  done,  Amelia  said,  "  I  shall 
be  glad  of  Mrs.  Atkinson's  company  to  breakfast ;  but 
yet  I  wish  you  would  oblige  me  in  refusing  this  money. 
Take  five  guineas  only :  that  is  indeed  such  a  sum  as, 
if  we  never  should  pay  it,  would  sit  light  on  our  mind. 
The  last  persons  in  the  world  from  whom  I  would  re- 
ceive favours  of  that  sort  are  the  poor  and  generous." 

"  You  can  receive  favours  only  from  the  generous," 
cries  Booth  :  "  and,  to  be  plain  with  you,  there  are  very 
few  who  are  generous  that  are  not  poor." 

"  What  think  you,"  said  she,  "  of  Doctor  Harrison  ?" 

"I  do  assure  you,"  said  Booth,"  he  is  far  from  being 
rich.  The  doctor  has  an  income  of  little  more  than  six 
hundred  pounds  a  year,  and  I  am  convinced  he  gives 
away  four  of  it.  Indeed,  he  is  one  of  the  best  econo- 
mists in  the  world ;  but  yet  I  am  positive  he  never  was 
44 


518  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

at  any  time  possessed  of  five  hundred  pounds  since  he 
has  been  a  man.  Consider,  dear  Emily,  the  late  obliga- 
tions we  have  to  this  gentleman  :  it  would  be  unreason- 
able to  expect  more,  at  least  at  present ;  my  half-pay 
is  mortgaged  for  a  year  to  come.  How,  then,  shall  we 
live  ?" 

"  By  our  labour,"  answered  she  :  "I  am  able  to  la- 
bour, and  I  am  sure  I  am  not  ashamed  of  it." 

"  And  do  you  really  think  you  can  support  such  a  life  ]" 

"  I  am  sure  I  could  be  happy  in  it,"  answered  Amelia. 
"  And  why  not  I  as  well  as  a  thousand  others,  who  have 
not  the  happiness  of  such  a  husband  to  make  life  deli- 
cious 1  Why  should  I  complain  of  my  hard  fate,  while 
so  many,  who  are  much  poorer  than  I,  enjoy  theirs? 
Am  I  of  a  superior  rank  or  being  to  the  wife  of  the  honest 
labourer?  Am  I  not  partaker  of  one  common  nature 
with  her  1" 

"  My  angel,"  cries  Booth,  "  it  delights  me  to  hear  you 
talk  thus,  and  for  a  reason  you  httle  guess  ;  for  I  am  as- 
sured that  one  who  can  heroically  endure  adversity,  will 
bear  prosperity  with  equal  greatness  of  soul ;  for  the 
mind  that  cannot  be  dejected  by  the  former  is  not  likely 
to  be  transported  with  the  latter." 

"  If  it  had  pleased  Heaven,"  cried  she,  "  to  have  tried 
me,  I  think,  at  least  I  hope,  I  should  have  preserved  my 
humility." 

"  Then,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "  I  will  relate  you  a  dream 
I  had  last  night :  you  know  you  lately  mentioned  a 
dream  of  yours." 

"  Do  so,"  said  she :  "  I  am  attentive." 

"  I  dreamed,"  said  he,  "  this  night  that  we  were  in  the 
most  miserable  situation  imaginable  ;  indeed,  in  the  sit- 
uation we  were  yesterday  morning,  or  rather  worse; 
that  I  was  laid  in  a  prison  for  debt,  and  that  you  wanted 
a  morsel  of  bread  to  feed  the  mouths  of  your  hungry 
children.  At  length,  (for  nothing  you  know  is  quicker 
than  the  transition  in  dreams,)  Doctor  Harrison  methought 
came  to  me,  with  cheerfulness  and  joy  in  his  counte- 
nance ;  the  prison  doors  immediately  flew  open ;  and 
Doctor  Harrison  introduced  you,  gayly,  though  not 
richly  dressed  :  that  you  gently  chid  me  for  staying  so 
long.  All  on  a  sudden  appeared  a  coach  with  four  horses 
to  it,  in  which  was  a  maid-servant  with  our  two  chil- 
dren :  we  both  immediately  went  into  the  coach ;  and, 
taking  our  leave  of  the  doctor,  set  out  towards  your 


THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA.  519 

country-house ;  for  yours  I  dreamed  it  was.  I  only  ask 
you  now,  if  this  was  real,  and  the  transition  almost  as 
sudden,  could  you  support  it]" 

Amelia  was  going  to  answer,  when  Mrs.  Atkinson 
came  into  the  room,  and,  after  very  little  previous  cere- 
mony, presented  Booth  with  a  bank-note,  which  he  re- 
ceived of  her,  saying  he  would  very  soon  repay  it;  a 
promise  that  a  little  offended  Amelia,  as  she  thought  he 
had  no  chance  of  keeping  it. 

The  doctor  presently  arrived,  and  the  company  sat 
down  to  breakfast ;  during  which  Mrs.  Atkinson  enter- 
tained them  with  the  history  of  the  doctors  that  had  at- 
tended her  husband,  by  whose  advice  Atkinson  was  re- 
covered from  everything  but  the  weakness  which  his 
distemper  had  occasioned. 

When  the  tea-table  was  removed.  Booth  told  the  doc- 
tor that  he  had  acquainted  his  wife  with  a  dream  he 
had  last  night.  "  I  dreamed,  doctor,"  said  he,  "  that  she 
was  restored  to  her  estate." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  doctor  ;  "  and  if  I  am  to  be  the 
Oneiropolist,  I  believe  the  dream  will  come  to  pass.  To 
say  the  truth,  I  have  rather  a  better  opinion  of  dreams 
than  Horace  had.  Old  Homer  says  they  come  from  Ju- 
piter ;  and  as  to  your  dream,  1  have  often  had  it  in  my 
waking  thoughts,  that  some  time  or  other  that  roguery, 
for  so  1  was  always  convinced  it  was,  would  be  brought 
to  light ;  for  the  same  Homer  says,  as  you,  madam, 
(meaning  Mrs.  Atkinson,)  very  well  know — 

^"E'lrep  ydp  re  Kai  aiinV  ^OX^finios  ovk  iri'Xccraev, 
"Kk  ts  Koi  oxj.i  TS^eV  avv  re  //£yaX(j)  airfriaav, 
Jliiv  a^mi  KC(pa\fici,  yvvai^l  re,  Kai  rsKuaoiv.^  "* 

"  1  have  no  Greek  ears,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Atkinson:  "I 
believe  I  could  understand  it  in  the  Delphin  Homer." 

"  I  wish,"  cries  he,  "my  dear  child,  (to  Amelia,)  you 
would  read  a  little  in  the  Delphin  Aristotle,  or  else  in 
some  Christian  divine,  to  learn  a  doctrine  which  you 
will  one  day  have  a  use  for  ;  I  mean,  to  bear  the  hardest 
of  all  human  conflicts;  and  to  support  with  an  even 
temper,  and  without  any  violent  transports  of  mind,  a 
sudden  gust  of  prosperity." 

"  Indeed,"  cries  Amelia,  "  I  should  almost  think  my 

*  If  Jupiter  does  not  immediately  execute  his  vengeance,  he  will, 
however,  execute  it  at  last ;  and  their  transgressions  shall  fall  heav- 
ily on  their  own  heads,  and  on  their  wives  and  children. 


520  THE   HISTORY   OP   AMELIA. 

husband  and  you,  doctor,  had  some  very  good  news  to 
tell  me,  by  your  using,  both  of  you,  the  same  introduc- 
tion. As  far  as  I  know  myself,  1  think  I  can  answer,  I 
can  support  any  degree  of  prosperity,  and  1  think  1  yes- 
terday showed  I  could  ;  for,  I  do  assure  you,  it  is  not  in 
the  power  of  Fortune  to  try  me  with  such  another  trans- 
ition from  grief  to  joy,  as  I  conceived  from  seeing  my 
husband  in  prison  and  at  Uberty." 

"  Well,  you  are  a  good  girl,"  cries  the  doctor;  "and 
after  1  have  put  on  my  spectacles,  I  will  try  you." 

The  doctor  then  took  out  a  newspaper,  and  read  as 
follows : — 

"  *  Yesterday  one  Murphy,  an  eminent  attorney  at  law, 
was  committed  to  Newgate  for  the  forgery  of  a  will, 
under  which  an  estate  had  been  for  many  years  detained 
from  the  right  owner.' 

"  Now  in  this  paragraph  there  is  something  very  re- 
markable, and  that  is,  that  it  is  true :  but  opus  est  expla- 
natum.  In  the  Delphin  edition  of  this  newspaper,  there 
is  the  following  note  upon  the  words  right  owner: — 
*  The  right  owner  of  this  estate  is  a  young  lady  of  the 
highest  merit,  whose  maiden  name  was  Harris ;  and 
who,  some  time  since,  was  married  to  an  idle  fellow, 
one  Lieutenant  Booth :  and  the  best  historians  assure 
us  that  letters  from  the  elder  sister  of  this  lady,  which 
manifestly  prove  the  forgery,  and  clear  up  the  whole  af- 
fair, are  in  the  hands  of  an  old  parson,  called  Doctor 
Harrison.' " 

"  And  is  this  really  true  V  cries  Amelia. 

"  Yes,  really  and  sincerely,"  cries  the  doctor ;  "  the 
whole  estate  ;  for  your  mother  left  it  you  all ;  and  it  is 
as  surely  yours  as  if  you  was  already  in  possession." 

"  Gracious  Heaven  !"  cries  she,  falling  on  her  knees, 
"  I  thank  you."  And  then  starting  up,  she  ran  to  her 
husband,  and,  embracing  him,  cried,  "  My  dear  love,  I 
wish  you  joy ;  and  I  ought,  in  gratitude,  to  wish  it  you, 
for  you  are  the  cause  of  mine.  It  is  upon  yours  and  my 
children's  account  that  I  principally  rejoice." 

Mrs.  Atkinson  rose  from  her  chair,  and  jumped  about 
the  room  for  joy,  repeating, 

Turne,  quod  optanti  Divoim  promittere  nemo 
Auderet,  volvenda  dies,  en,  aitulit  ultro.* 

*  What  none  of  all  the  gods  could  grant  thy  vows, 
That,  Tumus,  this  auspicious  day  bestows. 


THE  HISTORY  OP  AMfiLTA.  521 

Amelia  now  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  complained 
she  was  a  httle  faint,  and  begged  a  glass  of  water.  The 
doctor  advised  her  to  be  blooded  ;  but  she  refused,  say- 
ing, she  required  a  vent  of  another  kind.  She  then  de- 
sired her  children  lo  be  brought  to  her,  whom  she  im- 
mediately caught  in  her  arms;  and,  having  profusely 
cried  over  them  for  several  minutes,  declared  she  was 
easy ;  after  which,  she  soon  regained  her  usual  temper 
and  complexion. 

That  day  they  dined  together,  and  in  the  afternoon 
they  all,  except  the  doctor,  visited  Captain  Atkinson  : 
he  repaired  to  the  bailiff's  house  to  visit  the  sick  man, 
whom  he  found  very  cheerful,  the  surgeon  having  as- 
sured him  that  he  was  in  no  danger. 

The  doctor  had  a  long  spiritual  discourse  with  Robin- 
son, who  assured  him  that  he  sincerely  repented  of  his 
past  life,  that  he  was  resolved  to  lead  his  future  days  in 
a  different  manner,  and  to  make  what  amends  he  could 
for  his  sins  to  society,  by  bringing  one  of  the  greatest 
rogues  in  it  to  justice.  There  was  a  circumstance  which 
much  pleased  the  doctor,  and  made  him  conclude  that, 
however  Robinson  had  been  corrupted  by  his  old  master, 
he  had  naturally  a  good  disposition ;  this  was,  that  Rob- 
inson declared  he  was  chiefly  induced  to  the  discovery 
by  what  had  happened  at  the  pawnbroker's,  and  by  the 
miseries  which  he  there  perceived  he  had  been  instru- 
mental in  bringing  on  Booth  and  his  family. 

The  next  day  Booth  and  his  wife,  at  the  doctor's  in- 
stance, dined  with  Colonel  James  and  his  lady,  where 
they  were  received  with  great  civility ;  and  all  matters 
were  accommodated,  without  Booth  ever  knowing  a 
syllable  of  the  challenge  even  to  this  day. 

The  doctor  insisted  very  strongly  on  having  Miss 
Harris  taken  into  custody,  and  said,  if  she  was  his  sister 
he  would  deliver  her  to  justice.  He  added  besides,  that 
it  was  impossible  to  screen  her  and  carry  on  the  prose- 
cution, or,  indeed,  recover  the  estate.  Amelia  at  last 
begged  the  delay  of  one  day  only,  in  which  time  she 
wrote  a  letter  to  her  sister,  informinir  her  of  the  dis- 
covery, and  the  danger  in  which  she  stood  ;  and  begged 
her  earnestly  to  make  her  escape,  with  many  assurances 
that  she  would  never  suffer  her  to  know  any  distress. 
This  letter  she  sent  away  express,  and  it  had  the  desired 
effect ;  for  Miss  Harris,  having  received  sufficient  infor- 
mation from  the  attorney  to  the  same  purpose,  immedi- 
44* 


522  THE    HISTORY   OF   AMELIA. 

ately  set  out  for  Poole,  and  from  thence  to  France,  car- 
rying with  her  all  her  money,  most  of  her  clothes,  and 
some  few  jewels.  She  had,  indeed,  packed  up  plate  and 
jewels  to  tlie  value  of  two  thousand  pounds  and  upwards ; 
but  Booth,  to  whom  Amelia  communicated  the  letter, 
prevented  her,  by  ordering  the  man  that  went  with  the 
express  (who  had  been  a  sergeant  of  the  foot  guards, 
recommended  to  him  by  Atkinson)  to  suffer  the  lady  to 
go  whither  she  pleased,  but  not  to  take  anything  with  her 
except  her  clothes,  which  he  was  carefully  to  search. 
These  orders  were  obeyed  punctually,  and  with  these 
she  was  obliged  to  comply. 

Two  days  after  the  bird  was  flown,  a  warrant  from  the 
lord  chief  justice  arrived  to  take  her  up;  the  messenger 
of  which  returned  with  the  news  of  her  flight,  highly  to 
the  satisfaction  of  Amelia,  and  consequently  of  Booth; 
and,  indeed,  not  greatly  to  the  grief  of  the  doctor. 

About  a  week  afterward,  Booth  and  Ameha,  with  their 
children,  and  Captain  Atkinson  and  his  lady,  all  set  for- 
ward together  for  Ameha's  house,  where  they  arrived 
amid  the  acclamations  of  all  the  neighbours,  and  every 
pubUc  demonstration  of  joy. 

They  found  the  house  ready  prepared  to  receive  theni  a 
by  Atkinson's  friend,  the  old  sergeant,  and  a  good  din-  %l 
ner  prepared  for  them  by  Amelia's  old  nurse,  who  was 
addressed  with  the  utmost  duty  by  her  son  and  daughter, 
most  aff'ectionately  caressed  by  Booth  and  his  wife,  and 
by  Amelia's  absolute  conmiand  seated  next  to  herself  at 
the  table  ;  at  which,  perhaps,  were  assembled  some  of 
the  best  and  happiest  people  then  in  the  world. 


Chapter  IX. — In  which  the  history  is  concluded. 

Having  brought  our  history  to  a  conclusion,  as  to  those 
points  in  which  we  presume  our  reader  was  chiefly  in- 
terested, in  the  foregoing  chapter,  we  shall,  in  this,  by 
way  of  epilogue,  endeavour  to  satisfy  his  curiosity  as  to 
what  has  happened  to  the  principal  personages  of  whom 
we  have  treated  in  the  foregoing  pages. 

Colonel  James  and  his  lady,  after  living  in  a  polite 
manner  for  many  years  together,  at  last  agreed  to  live 
in  as  polite  a  manner  asunder.  The  colonel  has  kept 
Miss  Matthews  ever  since,  and  is  at  length  grown 


\ 


THE   HISTORY   OF   AMELIA.  523 

\i)  dote  on  her  (though  now  very  disagreeable  in  her 
person,  and  immensely  fat)  to  such  a  degree,  that  he 
submits  to  be  treated  by  her  in  the  most  tyrannical 
manner. 

He  allows  his  lady  eight  hundred  pounds  a  year  :  with 
which  she  divides  her  time  between  Tunbridge,  Bath, 
and  London,  and  passes  about  nine  hours  in  the  twenty- 
four  at  cards.  Her  income  is  lately  increased  by  three 
thousand  pounds  left  her  by  her  brother,  Colonel  Bath, 
who  was  killed  in  a  duel  about  six  years  ago  by  a  gen- 
tleman who  told  the  colonel  he  differed  from  him  in 
opinion. 

The  noble  peer  and  Mrs.  Ellison  have  been  both  dead 
several  years,  and  both  of  the  consequences  of  their 
favourite  vices ;  Mrs.  Ellison  having  fallen  a  martyr  to 
her  liquor,  and  the  other  to  his  amours,  by  which  he  was 
at  last  become  so  rotten  that  he  stank  above  ground. 

The  attorney,  Murphy,  was  brought  to  his  trial  at  the 
Old  Bailey ;  where,  after  much  quibbling  about  the  mean- 
ing of  a  very  plain  act  of  parliament,  he  was  at  length 
convicted  of  forgery,  and  was  soon  afterward  hanged  at 
Tyburn. 

The  witness  for  some  time  seemed  to  reform  his  life, 
and  received  a  small  pension  from  Booth ;  after  which 
he  returned  to  vicious  courses,  took  a  purse  on  the 
highway,  was  detected  and  taken,  and  followed  the  steps 
of  his  old  master.  So  apt  are  men,  whose  manners  have 
been  once  thoroughly  corrupted,  to  return  from  any  dawn 
of  amendment  into  the  dark  paths  of  vice. 

As  to  Miss  Harris,  she  lived  three  years  with  a  broken 
heart  at  Boulogne,  where  she  received  annually  fifty 
pounds  from  her  sister,  who  was  hardly  prevailed  on  by 
Dr.  Harrison  not  to  send  her  a  hundred  ;  and  then  died 
in  a  most  miserable  manner. 

Mr.  Atkinson,  upon  the  whole, has  led  a  very  happy  life 
with  his  wife,  though  he  has  been  sometimes  obliged  to 
pay  proper  homage  to  her  superior  understanding  and 
knowledge  ;  this,  however,  he  cheerfully  submits  to,  and 
she  makes  him  proper  returns  of  fondness.  They  have 
two  fine  boys,  of  whom  they  are  equally  fond.  He  is 
lately  advanced  to  the  rank  of  captain  ;  and  last  summer 
both  he  and  his  wife  paid  a  visit  of  three  months  to  Booth 
and  his  wife. 

Dr.  Harrison  is  grown  old  in  years  and  in  honour ;  be- 
loved and  respected  by  all  his  parishioners  and  by  all  his 


524  THE    HISTORY    OF    AMELIA. 

neighbours.  He  divides  his  time  between  his  parish,  his 
old  town,  and  Booth's;  at  which  last  place  he  had,  two 
years  ago,  a  gentle  fit  of  the  gout,  being  the  first  attack 
of  that  distemper.  During  this  fit  Amelia  was  his  nurse, 
and  her  two  elder  daughters  sat  up  alternately  with  him 
for  a  whole  week.  The  eldest  of  those  girls,  whose 
name  is  Amelia,  is  his  favourite :  she  is  the  picture  of 
her  mother ;  and  it  is  thought  the  doctor  has  distin- 
guished her  in  his  will ;  for  he  has  declared  that  he  will 
leave  his  whole  fortune,  except  some  few  charities, 
among  Amelia's  children. 

As  to  Booth  and  Amelia,  Fortune  seems  to  have  made 
them  large  amends  for  the  tricks  she  played  them  in 
their  youth.  They  have,  ever  since  the  above  period  of 
this  history,  enjoyed  an  uninterrupted  course  of  health 
and  happiness.  In  about  six  weeks  after  Booth's  first 
coming  into  the  country,  he  went  to  London,  and  paid  all 
his  debts  of  honour ;  after  which,  and  a  stay  of  two  days 
only,  he  returned  into  the  country,  and  has  never  since 
been  thirty  miles  from  home.  He  has  two  boys  and 
four  girls  ;  the  eldest  of  the  boys,  he  who  has  made  his 
appearance  in  this  history,  is  just  come  from  the  univer- 
sity, and  is  one  of  the  finest  gentlemen  and  best  scholars 
of  his  age.  The  second  is  just  going  from  school,  and  is 
intended  for  the  church,  that  being  his  own  choice.  His 
eldest  daughter  is  a  woman  grown,  but  we  must  not 
mention  her  age.  A  marriage  was  proposed  to  her  the 
other  day  with  a  young  fellow  of  a  good  estate,  but  she 
never  would  see  him  more  than  once  ;  "  for  Doctor  Har- 
rison," says  she,  *'  told  me  he  was  illiterate,  and  I  am 
sure  he  is  ill-natured."  The  second  girl  is  three  years 
younger  than  her  sister,  and  the  others  are  yet  children. 

Amelia  is  still  the  finest  woman  in  England  of  her 
age :  Booth  himself  often  avers  she  is  as  handsome  as 
ever.  Nothing  can  equal  the  serenity  of  their  lives. 
Amelia  declared  to  me  the  other  day,  that  she  did  not 
remember  to  have  seen  her  husband  out  of  humour  these 
ten  years  ;  and  upon  my  insinuating  to  her  that  he  had 
the  best  of  wives,  she  answered  with  a  smile,  that  she 
ought  to  be  so,  for  that  he  had  made  her  the  happiest  of 
women. 


THE  END. 


\ 


RETURN  TQoDESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


ItLC'D  LD 


'*PR3  0'Bb-IOAfi 


im\ 


i^8-ipi.i 


MAR -8  1953  7  e. 


-1^ 


RCC'D  V  fi — WOV    3  1968  5  Q 


III  23  'GG  ■  4 


^lliLcn.  DK27  TO 


AUG  1  ■■  1960  7  6 


f?gce 


*v^ 


S£P?7 


^ee^r?!? 


t-OAN 


LD  21A-60m-3,'65 
(F2336sl0)476B 


^l^eP^ 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


.?? 


